Sirius x Remus
by Flagfish
Summary: Marauders era; this is a very dirty story, and I think I might be going to hell for writing it. A rumor about Sirius and James has Remus jealous despite himself. James x Sirius, Sirius x Remus.
1. Chapter 1

Sirius Black was the type of bloke who would try anything once. Well—not _anything_, really, because _anything_ included the kind of idiotic bollocks every proper Black got up to, and, where his family was concerned, he'd rather try the deliberate opposite of _anything_, just to see his mother yell and shout. Trying the opposite of _anything_ became sort of his thing, which may be why he'd got along so well with a certain James Potter, long-established partner in crime and self-proclaimed Chaser Extraordinaire at the Gryffindor House quidditch team.

They snuck out past curfew to cast _colloportus_ on all classroom doors. They cast _confundo_ on Professor Binns during one particularly dull lecture in history of magic. One could say they only ever really excelled at spells they learned when there was opportunity to use those spells for mischief.

"I was _trying_ to understand what he said about the goblin uprising of 1744," Remus Lupin sighed when the spell part-worked and part didn't so much, leaving Binns curiously awakened from his own numbing drone when he realized for once that he'd lost his place in the text he was orating.

"No you weren't," James snickered under his breath, and Sirius commended him on a job well-done even if Binns got back to his proper place in the lesson soon after that; even good boy Remus Lupin would have to appreciate the rare diversion from this usually exasperatingly dull class. And, secretly, Remus did, and sometimes he couldn't help snickering visibly to himself at the various shenanigans his best mates pulled—while he would reprimand them with a serious look in his eyes, he'd nevertheless join in when they got together on the ratty couch at Gryffindor commons, the two exchanging knowing glances that by then he had known well before he'd finally ask them impatiently what it was they had up their sleeve now.

Sirius would look around cleverly, already stifling a grin as he inspected the room to be sure no one was listening in before beginning to relay in hushed tones what he and James had planned, and there also was Peter who'd listen in straight away, impressed and all too vastly amused by whatever it was the two had to say.

"You lot are terrible," Remus would laugh, but the words came in a way that meant unmistakably that he too was amused, and he too wanted in, even if he tried inwardly to tell himself that he really ought not to. Timid and mild-mannered, he was quite self-conscious after all about his _furry little problem_, and after compassionate efforts on part of their headmaster to keep his secret just that as to allow him to study at Hogwarts, Remus felt an inward obligation to work his hardest to do well.

Truth was, he really loved his friends. James and Sirius were almost hurt when they found he had a secret that he kept away from them, but reasoned that if he was gonna spend one day each month hanging out as a werewolf, then they'd just have to figure out some way to hang out with him properly. The animagus transformation, then, was probably their most extravagant example of working hard to learn magic purely for the sake of mischief.

Remus put on a very serious face when a stag, a rat, and a very big dog showed up excitedly to pay him a visit at the Shrieking Shack one evening before his transformation occurred, and proceeded with a combination of fascination and rage to lecture them on how they'd somehow managed to outdo themselves as far as reckless and irresponsible acts of utter idiocy were concerned—

But even as he waved his finger around and muttered and raged, there were tears glittering hot in his eyes, and he wiped at them stupidly as the words went incoherent and gradually lost, "_You daft lot of…of…_" he murmured as he laughed despite himself, struggling to appear like he was still mad as he plopped down on the creaking old mattress, and the great shaggy dog galloped toward him, front paws going on his knees as he reached up to lap at the side of his face.

"Idiot," Remus said with gentle affection, laughing as he sniffled and wiped with embarrassment at his own eyes, and soon the rat and the stag joined in.

Being a large scruffy dog was a great way of picking up ladies, Remus would mutter irritably at both Sirius and James when self-proclaimed Chaser Extraordinaire stepped out swaggering unto the lawn one sunny Saturday with a giant black dog on a leash, it was risky and stupid and _did the lot of them realize the kind of trouble they'd get themselves in if anyone found out they'd learned this sort of spell completely without regulations—_

It was exactly, of course, the sort of thing those two would do, and it wasn't beneath Sirius, either, to trot up to the ladies and nuzzle his face all over parts of them they'd absolutely slap him for if he was in proper human form. _Show-off_, James would murmur under his breath, though he got plenty of attention as well, when they'd laugh and pet his dog and start chatting with him after that.

_He's called Padfoot_, James told them, _Mister Padfoot_, though Mister Padfoot hardly had trouble getting the ladies' attention in proper human form as well. He was all too aware of his own good looks, but he wasn't so much arrogant as he liked to tease and torment James, they had a little contest of sorts, the two of them did. At that age, anything relating to sex seemed very adult and scandalous and taboo, and it was all you ever thought about and what you snickered about knowingly as though the mere fact you had something to say would suggest you were very adult and mature and advanced.

James and Sirius had an unspoken contest between them, which later went from unspoken to spoken outright and rubbed nearly constantly in each other's face, about just how far each of them had successfully gone and who would get to what base first.

"That's cheating, you're cheating…!" James exclaimed indignantly when one day Sirius announced broadly but without any words that he'd successfully managed second base, and the reason it was cheating was because Sirius got up to it with both girls and blokes, and it was a lot easier when you had double the playing field.

"How is that cheating?" Sirius laughed, plopping down on his bed like a king, because James' reaction had all but confirmed that here Mister Padfoot was farther ahead. This made James really vastly concerned of course, because truth was that for some time now he had fancied one particular bird, and he was no closer to even first base with her than Slytherin house was to winning the next quidditch match.

Lily Evans was in love with him, of course. She just needed a dashing chaser's help to realize and better understand her feelings.

Being not only dashing and charming as he were, but also quite generous and willing to help, James would be more than happy to offer assistance in this regard—and he invested himself in this failing endeavor nearly any chance he had of late, certainly making his offer of kindness quite clear during breakfast or charms class or partway through a quidditch game, to his friends' combined fascination and horror.

"He is such a right _tit_," Sirius would laugh over his breakfast some time before class, watching as, down near the end of the Gryffindor table, James "accidentally" dropped his glasses right near where Lily was sat with a group of her friends, and he rose to his full height after picking them up with a badly executed show of being presumably stunned to see her there.

"Oh, good morning, Evans…!" he said with feigned surprise, attempting somehow to flex what muscles he had from beneath the hopelessly obscuring drape of his robes, and his supposed greatest fan heaved a sigh of annoyance without turning around, wondering just how many days in a row a guy could pretend to drop his glasses behind you at breakfast before he realized how obvious he was.

_She wants me_, James mouthed to Sirius from the other end of the table, pointing both fingers down to Lily below, and he winked and gave his friends a thumbs-up before proceeding to turn around and swagger back to the company of the other three. _That ought to set him straight_, he thought, and assured himself he'd be ahead in the race in practically no time.

"Nicely done, mate," Sirius laughed when James sat at his side, "she seems clearly smitten."

"Clearly."

James turned his head sideward while he buttered his roll, flashing Evans his thousand-Watt smile from the end of the table and winking with his best boyish charm.

"Yeah, hurry up and eat," Remus said, though he too couldn't help smiling, "we haven't got much longer before potions class."

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

Sirius and James weren't really the kind of guys who had to revise for stuff; they were just _good at everything_, and it seemed they really had the time to spare for wreaking havoc, to the vast delight of most other students. They'd put their feet up on the tables in potions if they could, it certainly would make for an interesting lesson for once. Not everyone had it so easy, though; if the two of them could excel at subjects without much effort put in preparation, Peter Pettigrew was the kind of guy who could spend all night revising and never remember a thing.

He got nervous in front of a crowd. Whatever bits and pieces he'd managed to scramble from memory would vanish if ever he was put on the spot in lecture and a professor had screwed his gaze down on him, and any chance he'd had to save himself was gone along with any trace of confidence when said professor's gaze would turn to the disappointment he'd got so used to seeing, _oh no, Pettigrew, of course we mustn't expect you to know_.

It was even worse when a teacher had shown him compassion and tried asking him something different instead, hoping to give him a question he'd actually know, only to cause him more profound embarrassment when he'd freeze up at the rest of them, too.

"Are you daft?" James would snicker, "He just lectured on this five minutes ago," and Peter tried laughing at himself in response, having actually listened and even scribbled down notes, now recognizing the very subject he was asked in his own scroll of parchment.

Hogwarts was a breeding ground for gossip sometimes, news traveled faster and became more grotesquely fascinating with every new pass along, and it were decent blokes like Remus Lupin who fought to keep their lips sealed- but he'd heard it all just as well. There were malicious things said about even the kindest of teachers, and rumors about students' parents if they were poor, and much speculation on whether Sirius Black had already done it or not.

"_I'll bet that he had_," there came a hushed female voice from somewhere behind Remus as he walked down the hall toward transfiguration, and he found himself walking more slowly, guilty as he listened in, "_everyone knows about the ball last year_…"

This was a reference of course to Padfoot's celebrated accomplishments partway through the dance, when he and his date had mysteriously vanished and got up to no good in a hidden passageway near the ballroom nearby; anyone who hadn't seen or heard was delivered a vastly exaggerated account the following day from Sirius' date, and Sirius' three best mates got a first-hand report from Padfoot, himself.

James was grossly annoyed by these rumors, because he and Sirius kept accurate tabs as to who got exactly how far and just when and with whom, and it wasn't fair that half of Gryffindor house had falsely believed that here Sirius had successfully completed his ascent up the ladder to manhood when in reality he'd only been partway there at best. James felt only half compelled to deny the rumors then when someone started on about how Sirius presumably_ lost it_ to James, because at least it put them on even ground as far as others knew.

"But that's bollocks," Remus snickered from over his arithmancy text, raising an eyebrow as he realized neither of them seemed bothered by the rumors, which were intended clearly in malice in the first place and left a lot of witches worried and some wizards hopeful with regards to James. "Utter bollocks," James laughed with confidence, laying his head down in Sirius' lap on the lawn where they sat to revise and winking up at him as though challenging the very rumor that was going around, and he thought that even though he only ever fancied girls, he might not mind giving Padfoot a go just to see what it was like.

"Oh, come off it," Remus huffed, now looking around the lawn where other students were sat here and there, "what if Evans sees?"

Now James propped himself up by the elbows, gazing around just in case. He had a reputation to maintain, after all, but what if Evans got word that he was presumably taken? He wondered if she'd heard the rumor, too, and if she did, whether she was impressed.

"You really wanna know what it's like?" Sirius asked, his dark hair pouring forth as he bent his head down to James, and James took a moment to consider, Remus and Peter watching with mute horror as this transpired before them. They both wished to somehow make them stop, but each found himself curiously unable to conjure forth his voice. Sirius' hair fell in a dark veil over James' face and the other two couldn't quite make out that they kissed, but James went curiously still for a moment, one hand tightening around his forgotten potions text.

Peter gazed forth with a look of repulsion, as though secretly hoping that he wasn't next, and Remus stared as though watching a train wreck until he remembered finally to turn away his gaze. "I thought you're competing, not helping each other," he stammered, for once actually encouraging their idiotic contest instead of rolling his eyes at how juvenile it was.

Sirius pulled away with a satisfied smile, and James' eyebrows rose, hand coming to finger absently at his lip and forehead furrowed as though he were considering. "Not bad," he finally said as he turned his head a bit back to gaze at Sirius, and then he returned to sit up, hair even messier than before.

"I should charge you for that," Sirius replied, now leaning back against the trunk of the tree, and James didn't miss a beat to tell him it was worth five knuts at best. Remus grinned, but he knew inwardly that if Padfoot really charged for things like that, he could conceivably earn some actual money.

Remus didn't participate in the sort of competition that the two of them had, but, like most everyone his age, he thought of it, of course. When they were all in their first year at Hogwarts, Sirius had whispered to his friends that he'd nicked a copy of _Playwitch_ from his older cousin, Bellatrix, and the four of them stayed up late that night hidden under his bed drapes as they flipped through it with a bad _lumos_ spell, none of them daring to utter a word as they stared with absolute trepidation, each of them wondering whether they found what they saw disgusting or really wicked cool.

Remus found out second year that James and Sirius had compared and contrasted sizes. Part of him was horrified, and part was curious to know how they ranked in comparison, and another part of him was curious as to how he would rank among them, himself—but mostly he just felt left out. _It's a daft thing_, he told himself as he tried to focus on revision later, _to feel bad for being left out of_.

It felt like Sirius and James were still comparing sizes to this day.

"Is it true about you and Black?" a witch from their transfiguration lecture had cornered James shyly one morning, and James flashed her his most charming grin, winking as he asked, "Do you want it to be?" And somewhere across the way came the look of repulsion from Severus Snape.

He was almost grateful inside; if anything, these various rumors had made Lily Evans more disgusted with Potter than ever, and Severus thought that if James had fancied her the way it appeared, then he was an even more despicable creature than Severus thought for messing around this way. Truth be told, James only really fancied Lily—but, after all, there was a race to be won and a reputation to maintain.

Truth be told, the prospect of involving Lily in a competition like this made James feel all kinds of wrong inside.

Sirius settled down beside Remus at lunch, one long arm coming round the boy's shoulder as he pointed at him and said, "I've got you sorted for potions tomorrow." He tapped him amicably on the chest and then reached for a plate of stew, "figured out exactly what Slughorn has planned, we've all got a head start."

Remus grinned, his inward curiosity about mischief subtly piqued, and he whispered knowingly in hushed tones, "But how did you…?"

Sirius winked. "Had a rummage in his desk," he said, "good thing, too—looks complicated." His hand came under the table, where he passed a folded bit of parchment into Remus' waiting hand.

"Cheers," Remus said, convinced it weren't really _cheating_ and, more than anything, feeling curiously glad to be included in the plan.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

Moony didn't know what it was about Padfoot and Prongs. Ever since the rumors about them and the popularity said rumors seemed to have gained, his two best mates appeared all the more devoted to bring those very rumors to manifestation. It shouldn't have bothered him the way that it did; for once he had found he preferred when there was a competition between them, and not a twisted sort of cooperation that had him disturbed in ways he didn't understand.

Just how would appearing involved with one another help them become involved with anyone else—Remus didn't know, but it certainly did help.

No one but Remus and Peter had seen when Sirius kissed James on the lawn, but half a loungeful of Gryffindors saw him seated luxuriantly over James' lap as the two had revised, heads close enough together that it might be scandalous and it might not.

Over at one of the tables nearby, three witches watched them transfixed, whispering not-so-unnoticeably amongst themselves while crossing and uncrossing and re-crossing their legs. Even bloody Evans watched.

Remus exchanged a glance with Peter, the two of them miserably in the same boat, but there was no solace there somehow; there was more to it, Remus found, than being _left out_.

But were they really…? Were they really at it, and was there anything more to it beyond just a show, and how much were they really going to do just to get attention? It was at an after-game party that the two of them, dizzy and hot off butterbeer, were standing just a little too close, Sirius leaning against one of the tables in the lounge and James with his bottle in hand, swaying forth a little in place as his fingers danced just at Sirius' thigh.

It should have been enough that James was Chaser. It should've been enough that they properly beat Ravenclaw at the match, didn't everyone present already want to shag Prongs, did he really need to do whatever it was he were doing with Padfoot right then—

Sirius had leaned forward to have a sip of James' butterbeer, and James held it up in a way as to help him along, but it spilled out a little; the fluid ran in a glistening streamlet out the corner of Sirius' mouth and onto his shirt from beneath, and James leaned in to lap at it slowly—

They'd completely forgotten the drink after that. They were at it, kissing not with the kind of experimental curiosity as out on the lawn, but like they'd either had plenty of practice or they wished that they had, and, fucking hell, were the girls watching. Some of the blokes were watching, as well, but none as intently as Remus did. He wished he couldn't hear them, but he could, even while the dirty things they said came far too quiet and far too muffled in-between to be intended for an audience.

"_Right here?_" James had asked, his free hand playing just at the buckle of Sirius' belt, and Sirius' lips stretched in a grin that was elegant and very dirty all the while, his aristocratic fingers coming slowly over the other boy's wrist as he prompted him forth, "_Right here_," he replied.

Remus reassured himself this was only something to get Lily's interest in James, and it certainly worked, it would seem, except the look in her eyes wasn't exactly _envy_, but something far more profane than that. It was as though everyone who ever fancied Sirius and who ever fancied James had been given a gift to finally see them together.

_Gryffindor needs to win more often_, someone had said.

Remus didn't stick around to see where James' hand proceeded to go after that.

XXX

It was late when the both of them got in from the party, Remus and Peter had long since got in their beds, and it really was too loud, too drunkenly obnoxious when the two stumbled in past the door, arms still slung around each other, still cheering for Gryffindor's win.

Remus could see them through a thin opening in the drapes of his bed, still too close, still brushing lips together now and again as though they were kissing, and the fact that Sirius already had snogged half the witches and some of the wizards in their grade had never annoyed Remus so much as this did.

"Bollocks, you're utter shite as Chaser," Sirius laughed, and his laugh came a little too knowing, a little too low, and James was a little too tame in the cocky protest that followed, _that's not what you were saying before—_

And what's worse, after that there came the distinctive aroma of smoking, and Remus wondered what part of the after-game party had lent itself to something like that, then James was stupidly coughing, and Sirius smirked, taking the lit cigarette from his hand to his own mouth and calling him an amateur and a tit.

"That's disgusting," James had said, and, cigarette at his lips, Sirius murmured that he was going to teach James to smoke properly, and _what were friends for—_

—and, for a bewildering moment, Remus had realized he'd envied James for that, too. Despite himself, he listened in to what ensued after that, when Sirius apparently put the cigarette to James' mouth a second time and chuckled at the other boy's reaction, and then the coughing went silent, and everything went silent, and that was even worse, and then there came distinctly Sirius' voice in a low, smooth way he'd never heard him use from so close by before, "_Mate, you all right?_"

He should shout at them to be quiet and fuck off. He should tell them to put that blooming thing out, but Remus' voice was uselessly lodged at his throat, and he listened with the curious attention of a real voyeur.

When Sirius spoke after that, he sounded like he still had the cigarette at his lips, there was the rustling of cloth, again that knowing laughter— then, to Remus' horror, the unmistakable metal clink of a belt buckle and the low undoing of a fly, and James chuckled in amusement, and Sirius was on again about what friends were for, and _weren't they supposed to be competing for this, and did this mean Sirius already knew how—_

He wished they'd shut up. He wished they'd sober up and remember that James fancied Lily and that Sirius never fancied anyone but played with them all, but despite it Remus was touching himself, he was too hard and insistent to deny himself at that point. Whatever Sirius did after that, he was good at it, it was apparent by the quiver in James' voice, the silent expletives that issued from him half-strained and half muttered, the bit Sirius murmured about _stop pulling my hair_—

"_Fucking hell, you like that, don't you_," it was James that time, speaking with a mixture of fascination and something not quite discernible, and after Remus listened longer, he realized it was quite clearly _hunger_, and he wondered what it was that Sirius liked, and if it were what friends were for, then _wasn't he also both their best friend—_

Was it because he wasn't in on their idiotic contest to begin with? Was Peter somehow able to sleep through it all, or was he just as mortified, _but certainly he wasn't touching himself the way Remus was_.

He had realized that for the past several minutes they'd gone eerily silent, and it got all the worse when after that James' voice came a little too breathy and a little too hoarse, and he murmured something about "_And how much would you charge me for that?_"

"For you," Sirius said, "that's free."

"Blimey," there came the clinking of a belt again, and he could hear James jumping off the top of the dresser nearby, "thanks, mate."

Remus shut his eyes tightly, face buried down in his pillow as he got himself off in his hand, and he wanted something with curious longing he hadn't known before; but _everyone_ fancied Sirius Black, didn't they, and how could the two of them not realize he and Peter could hear everything that went on in the room—he found himself wondering for one bizarre moment if they weren't still putting on a show even just then, the way James got Lily's attention back in the lounge.

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

It was partway through potions that Remus spoke to James. He'd been debating in his mind whether or not to bring it up, and whether he were stupid for even caring at all, but it bothered him throughout the past several days, and he found himself thinking back to it far more than he wanted. They'd been working on invigoration draught for twenty minutes now, and while it wasn't particularly horrible to brew, he found it difficult to focus on cutting or stirring anything properly and finally directed his attention deliberately to the matter at hand.

"Oi, Prongs," he said, looking up sideward from over his cauldron, and he swallowed dryly in the moment between speaking up and when James looked his way; he could still back away if he wanted. He could just as easily say something else.

"What's he like," he asked, deliberately staring down at the light green color his potion wasn't supposed to turn into, "Sirius."

Now that the question was irreversibly out in the open between them, his ears burned red as he waited for any kind of response. There was an excruciating silence, James pausing for exactly three seconds before going back to chopping up his ingredients with ease. "Funny question out of you, isn't it?" he asked, and when Remus gazed at him out the corner of his eye, he saw that he was smiling.

James reached for a small vial that he'd set aside and tipped it briskly into his cauldron to drop out one eye of newt; the potion hissed and went a complacent shade of blue, to his contentment.

"Yeah," Remus said, having given up on his own potion for the time being. "So what's he like?"

James smiled in a bout of amusement, one eyebrow raised as he looked back at him. He seemed to think the question through, as though he'd not really paid attention before. "Very nice, if you like blokes," he finally said, dropping a handful of stems into his concoction and stirring a bit.

Remus considered, unsure of what to make of it.

"Do you like blokes?" he asked, but he knew the answer already.

A few more seconds had passed.

"Just him," there came the reply, casual and lighthearted as though he were asked his opinion on a book or a certain quidditch team.

"As a friend," he added.

"As a friend." Remus repeated. _Yeah, a friend who had you on your knees before him last night, behind the drapes of his bed, giving far-too-elaborate instructions on what you ought to be doing while you're down there_.

If it were _just him_, then, then maybe Sirius was so good that he could even catch the interest of someone who wasn't really into blokes. It was no secret that Sirius had got around with nearly as many wizards as witches, they couldn't have all been into blokes from the start. Maybe it was just that Sirius was _pretty_. Maybe it was just that he knew how to smile in a way that was both very boyish and dangerous all at once, _or maybe it was how dirty he was when he went at it with James, deliberately for show. _

"You wanna fuck Padfoot?" James asked, and Remus nearly knocked his cauldron off its base.

"_What…?_"

James shrugged. "Sounds like you do."

Remus merely stared, mouth agape and eyes blinking, and he shook his head as he tried to digest what the other boy said, let alone how to take it or how to respond. He looked around wildly, hair whipping as he tried to see whether anyone had heard.

"_That's not—!_"

James gave him a bemused smile from over his own cauldron, as though he wasn't buying it. "We're best mates, Moony. Relax."

It occurred to Remus that what alarmed him most was how casually James had brought up such a thing. You didn't speak so casually about sex, did you, unless you'd had some experience. _Did that mean they'd both already done it, and the rumor was actually true?_ Is that all they really had to do to be done with their idiotic contest—just sleep with each other, and both get ahead? For the first time, Remus found himself conscious of how behind he actually felt.

Up at the front of the room, Slughorn was starting to collect vials from students to grade, and Remus quickly nudged James' robe. "Prongs, can I get a vial of yours?" he whispered, "My potion is shite."

It wasn't something he usually did. Remus typically worked very hard at potions, and every subject he studied at school, but if he were a complete stickler for rules and academic integrity, he'd never get along as well as he did with his friends.

James grinned and patted him on the back straight away, "I'll sort you out," he said, pleased with his own results as he held his hand out to receive Remus' vial, "What are friends for?"

XXX

He didn't really get the answer he wanted in his conversation with James, but it did make him realize something: they _were_ best mates after all, and it was daft to get as worked up and nervous as he did about it all. Maybe if he wanted Padfoot, he should have just said so. But did he…?

_Of course not_. He didn't even fancy blokes.

Except he got himself off several times last night alone thinking of what he'd heard from outside the confines of his own bed drapes. Except he spent more time trying to figure out what _very nice_ could have meant than properly working on his essay for charms. There was a trip that upcoming Saturday to Hogsmeade, and he wanted to be sure he was done with his essays before then, though his mind had been no good for the past two days entirely.

James had been on about planning to ask Lily out that day. Without saying so aloud, Remus knew that this time, it wasn't entirely inconceivable that she'd agree; she'd been watching James more intently of late than she had in the previous five years combined, presumably repulsed, but for someone so repulsed, she certainly seemed one for morbid fascination.

"But you're not really—you're not really considering it?" Severus asked with growing aggravation as he walked at her side after class, "After he'd snogged someone else every free moment for the past week?"

"Of course not," Lily sighed, "Don't be ridiculous." But she was eyeing the four friends walking off somewhere across the lawn; she'd got off thinking of them, too.

On the day of their trip, she looked around the students gathering outside the castle to go, assuring Severus she was trying to find her friend Alice; _they'd got themselves detention again_, she thought to herself with disappointment, there was nothing to be done about those two…

Remus was no less annoyed; if there ever was a time he'd felt decidedly left out, this was it. He stood outside their dorm room door with a pretty good idea of what his two best mates were up to inside, and even though it was his room as well, he wasn't one to walk deliberately in. Hogsmeade outings were few and far between, and they'd already talked extensively about going, and James had all these plans about Evans, so why were they wasting a perfectly good Saturday having at each other…?

He thought to give the door a knock, to call out from outside about how everyone was already leaving and they should stop mucking about and get on with it, but it was _his room, after all_, and why should he stand outside, knocking? _They were best mates, and he shouldn't get worked up_, that's what he'd long since decided. Besides, who's to say they were _at it_, anyway…?

He gave the handle a quick twist and pushed the door in; the pale winter sunlight streamed in through the partly-open window, weakly illuminating an arch on the carpet beneath, and again there came that nauseating scent of cigarette smoke from somewhere inside. The drapes at James' bed were drawn, and, from a few yards away, Remus could make out visible movement from behind the curtain. He stood frozen in place, cheeks flushed with blood; they must have heard the door. They must have known he'd come in, but there was no effort on their part to scramble or falter or stop—from the sliver in James' blinds, he could still see movement, just as before.

"The—trip for Hogsmeade is leaving, I—"

He started but couldn't quite get past that point. Even after he'd spoken, they went on uninterrupted, as though unaware.

Remus stood stupidly at the doorway, watching the dust float in the sunlight to the small patch of carpet illuminated on the floor. It was disturbing, the way they didn't react, to the point that he'd wondered if there was some sort of spell at work; he casually unraveled his scarf from his neck as he paced to the bed, hesitating a few moments as his heart raced inside him.

"Lads, I—" he said as in final warning, tentatively sliding the drape back from the bed.

James had Sirius in his lap, completely naked. James was fully clothed. He had the cigarette in his mouth, grinning with casual amusement at Remus, now apparently accustomed to smoking enough that he didn't cough or choke. "'Lo, Moony," he said, and Sirius turned partway around, his long hair sliding across the perfect angle of his shoulder, and there came that part-boyish, part-dangerous smile. Remus noticed then there was something round his neck— the collar and leash he'd worn as a dog when James went swaggering with him across the lawn outside months before, when they'd both got up to no good with the ladies. The leash snaked down his naked chest and loosely into James' hand. Remus went completely red and then he froze with shock, and no amount of reassurance in his mind about how _they were best mates_ and _why should this be a big deal_ helped him calm down.

Sirius reached with one hand and took the cigarette from James' mouth, then brought it to his own lips, inhaling with proficient grace that Remus had never seen from close up. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Sirius naked. They'd all changed clothes in the same room, after all, and of course there was the time that, to the delight of students in all four houses and horror of some of the staff, Sirius and James streaked nude through on their brooms halfway through a quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw (even after they were nearly expelled, James insisted it was entirely worth it).

But it was the first time he'd seen him naked from this close up. "Hello, Moony," Sirius snickered, eyebrows rising as he held out the cigarette for him to take. Remus gazed down at his waiting hand and then back at his eyes, his voice uselessly frozen at the back of his throat.

"Take it," Sirius said, and Remus did, holding it awkwardly between his fingers and examining it as though it were a foreign object, aware suddenly that _cigarettes felt warm_.

"Good man," said James, and he beckoned him closer.

"I thought… you were gonna ask out Evans…" Remus murmured weakly to James, and James nodded as though acknowledging the validity of his words, "Don't worry, I am."

"Here," said Sirius, reaching toward Remus, who had approached them at last, and he took the cigarette from in-between his idle fingers. He brought it to Remus' mouth, and Remus coughed, eyes going wide and eyebrows furrowing as he reached to take it out again.

James and Sirius laughed. "Just like you, Prongs," Sirius said.

"Yeah, fuck off," there came the reply, James taking the cigarette back and putting it to Sirius' lips. He did so with a sort of nurturing attention that had Remus both envious and curiously aroused, and there he was feeling left out again.

"Prongs told me you had some questions," Sirius said, his voice coming a little bit muffled over the cigarette, and as Remus looked closer, he could see that James' hand was in Sirius' lap, his wrist slowly moving. It occurred to him he'd been doing so the entire time they've spoken till now.

He was far beyond embarrassment now. "He did, did he," he asked; he wished James hadn't told him, but now that he did, it didn't come as malice or ridicule. _It genuinely sounded like they wanted to help_.

These blokes were his best friends. They slept in the same room for years, revised for their OWLs together, cheated on exams together a few times— and of course, they'd learned an illegal, extravagant transfiguration spell just to spend time with him. Sirius had told them, himself, that his three best mates were more a family to him than his real family had ever been.

Then how was it that Remus felt so profoundly terrified at that moment, as though he'd only now got to know them for the first time—

"Since you wanted to know _what Padfoot is like…"_ Sirius said, snickering as he drew on the cigarette and then reached out to tap it at the edge of a saucer on the nightstand nearby, and he was beautiful at that moment, his naked body moving elegant and slender in a way Remus never had noticed before.

As he turned aside, Remus could tell exactly what James' hand was doing, and he averted his gaze in embarrassment, as though he'd finally intruded too far.

"Don't look away," James said softly, "you wanna know, don't you?"

By then, Remus was completely hard. He watched quietly as James took his hand, and sat on the mattress beside them as he brought it down toward Sirius' member. Remus gasped in surprise; he'd never felt another bloke's erection before. It was slick and hot and very rigid, and before he could think anything else, he became aware that _it felt very nice_.

His gaze met Sirius' slowly, and Sirius gave a little laugh, eyes twinkling in a way that could make you fall in love—

Remus smiled, too. Without thinking of it, he slowly moved his hand along the hard member in his grasp, tentatively familiarizing himself with the sensation, and Sirius' eyes fluttered shut as he murmured, "that's very nice."

_It's very nice_, it was what James had said in potions.

James seemed unable to resist that time, he cupped Sirius' jaw possessively and drew him to himself, kissing him slowly on the mouth.

"I want to do that too," Remus heard himself say without ever intending it, it came honest and innocent and laden with undertones of something he'd stifled too long, and James could tell, because he broke the kiss reluctantly, hand still on Sirius' jaw.

There were several moments that passed after that before he nodded and pulled away.

"All right."

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

Remus hadn't fully registered what it was he had asked, but James and Sirius were already in agreement. Whatever he'd have said in attempt to explain after that never came, and he watched in mute panic as James' fingers slid from Sirius' jaw very slowly, like he were reluctant to give him up. Remus had almost forgotten where he'd had his hand and just what it was doing, but when he tried as on impulse to withdraw, Sirius' fingers came on his wrist, insistently holding him in place.

"You wanted to know, mate," he said, cigarette now long forgotten, and he brought it back to his lips with a long-winded draw. The orange tip burned bright for several moments before he took it back out, and Remus squinted and coughed at the smoke, so finally Sirius turned aside to put it out.

"There'll be a time to teach you that," he said, and Remus didn't manage to say anything more, because Sirius kissed him quickly. His large, elegant hands came on Remus' cheeks as he drew him in, and it came so simple, so comfortable but still _so good_, he could taste the humid expiration of his breath, he could still smell the scent of smoke—

He reached after him unawares as James laughed beside them, "Come on," he said, allowing Sirius out of his lap, and he gently caressed his naked thigh with appreciation; Remus had forgotten all about Hogsmeade or Lily or Peter, he watched as from somewhere far off as James led Sirius to lie on his back. He was meant to be naked. His limbs were slender and long, his hips narrow and perfectly cut, every angular bend of his muscles and bones seemed almost molded from clay; _when did he get like that_, Remus wondered, _how didn't I notice_—

Remus' hand slipped away from his member, feeling curiously slick and wet, and he gazed at it absently; it wasn't a bad feeling. It's not like he hadn't felt it when he'd touched himself, and it was a little like that, and a little bit not. He raised one eyebrow as he held up a part of the leash that lay slack on the mattress, as to ask what all that was about. Sirius snickered. James laughed outright, "Padfoot's idea," he said, "dirty git."

"Oi, sod off," Padfoot said, and he stretched on the mattress like a king, he may have been out in the lounge and mid-chatter with everyone, the way he was so casual about it; here was a guy with no concept of shame. It really was so like Sirius, though, as Remus had known him for so many years, and it helped calm his nerves.

"You ever snog anyone properly, Moony?" Sirius asked, and James nudged his side, "Oi," he said in warning, "Don't be a cock, Padfoot." It was an embarrassing question. Remus hadn't been in on their contest, he didn't boast or tally his accomplishments the way the other two did. Now that he was prompted outright, he felt suddenly pressured, as though just by virtue of asking his friends had assumed that he hadn't.

"Maybe I did," he replied, though he didn't know what _properly_ meant. He'd kissed a girl on the lips when he was fourteen. She was three years his elder and a muggle, and it was one of the best things he'd had ever felt.

"You fancy snogging me?" Sirius asked, and James reprimanded him again, "Just do it, Pads, blimey." He turned to Remus and patted him amicably on the back. "He's having a laugh 'cause you're nervous, it's no big deal if you've not snogged a bloke."

"Yeah, all right, come on," Sirius said, and he smiled lightheartedly, pulling Remus down toward him by the arm. "Thanks," Remus said, they were both being nice about it, and it did calm him down, they made it seem like it was really no big deal, something like letting him copy down class notes.

This close up, he could see straight into Sirius' eyes. He chuckled. It felt strange and surreal, and oddly exciting, there were curious thrills dancing all throughout him in his stomach and coursing electric through his skin; "Okay," Sirius said, and Remus breathed in, "Okay."

Padfoot smiled toothily, he approached him with arms sliding round his back, and Remus trembled slightly when he kissed him again. "_Open_," Sirius murmured just against his mouth, and Remus dutifully parted his lips, gentle and tentative as Sirius slowly had at him.

He was very good at it. His lips moved with careful but very attentive proficiency, tugging gently and pressing with elegant grace, his tongue going into his mouth in a way that wasn't cumbersome or invasive or mindless. It was the sort of enjoyable play he could have kept up much longer, he heard James comment from beside him, "Enjoy that, Moony, not everyone's that good."

He didn't want to stop when Sirius pulled away, he'd already been lying partway over his naked chest, one hand at his shoulder , eyes fluttering open, heart racing more than before. It took a few moments for James' words to register.

"Who says I've not—" he stammered, and now Sirius laughed and slapped James on the arm, "Now who's being a cock? He doesn't have to tell us."

But there was that _us_ again, _Padfoot and Prongs_, and Remus thought of how surprised and almost offended his best mates had been long before when they realized he'd been keeping a secret from them about being a werewolf. Despite feeling defensive, he deliberately succumbed to the truth. "I've not snogged anyone before this," he murmured with a sheepish smile, "Not like this. I've just kissed a girl on the mouth." It didn't feel bad to tell them after all.

"Well, that's all right," Sirius said, and James nodded, as though to reassure him in case he felt bad, and neither tried asking who it was and how it came to pass. Remus wasn't thinking of it anymore; he became aware that he wanted to kiss him again; on the other side of the bed, James was watching with something like discontentment, as though torn between the desire to help Remus and the urge to keep his best mate possessively to himself. James still only really fancied Evans; he thought _this was something entirely unrelated to that_.

And without James ever saying anything, Remus thought he could understand— if you asked him, he'd tell you he was totally straight. He'd never wanted another bloke the way he wanted Sirius. He thought back to the time Sirius first kissed James, and how James had said it was _worth five knuts at best_; he knew it was utter bollocks, and that James was proficient enough at being cocky to pass it off with such casual ease; but it was no wonder they'd been at it ever since then.

"Can we do it again," he asked with childlike honesty, and his face was alight with such candid innocence that Sirius laughed, and he leaned in to do it when James gave a sound of disapproval. "I've made a proper fag of you, Prongs," Sirius said, and James scoffed sarcastically, "bollocks," he said, "I've snogged more birds than you."

Now Sirius scoffed. "Lies, no you haven't."

"I have—"

Remus stayed quiet. He'd not _snogged a lot of birds_. He felt self-conscious and immature somehow, and impatient now that they were arguing. He didn't like hearing about how many birds they had snogged.

"Oi, shut up already," he finally said, "who cares about that."

It was a daft thing to say, he knew—because _who cared about that_ was exactly these two beside him, who've been competing at exactly such a thing for nearly as long as they'd known one another. And also, it wasn't true that Remus didn't care. He cared, he had realized, and he felt very behind in comparison; he wondered if Padfoot wanted to kiss him at all.

"Right," James said, "let's teach him, then."

Remus tugged very gently at the part of the leash that spanned out from the collar round Sirius' neck, just enough to get his attention, and he leaned in courageously of his own accord. Sirius stiffened for a moment but proceeded to respond in kind, his hand hovering tentative over Remus' on the leash. It went on a few moments, and when they finally stopped, they looked at each other, forehead to forehead, Sirius smiling, Remus chuckling with stifled enthusiasm; James gazed without a word, aware that he only fancied Evans and that he didn't like blokes, but possessive all the same.

"Yeah, let's teach him," Sirius said.

"Teach me what?" Remus asked, both excited and afraid, but before he even fully moved away James had reached in to turn Sirius' head toward him, and he kissed him without saying a word.

Remus didn't know what to make of it. He thought of the question he'd heard witches whisper in the halls and behind him in class, _is it true about Potter and Black?_ James had made a point that he liked him _as a friend_, but that felt entirely inconsistent with what it looked like now.

Neither of them seemed to want to give Remus a hard time, though; both seemed almost apologetic when they drew apart. "Right," Sirius said, patting Remus on the arm, "We'll teach him what to do with a bloke."

_I don't need to know that_, Remus thought, but he didn't protest; it meant he was going to do things with Sirius.

_I don't fancy him_.

But there was the most curious thrill dancing inside him, a restless anticipation that was exciting and aggravating all at once, and he found himself attentive and interested in anything Sirius had to say. _It's only Padfoot_, he thought, _what's the big deal…?_

"Right, come here, Moony," James said, "bring your hand here—" his gaze met Sirius' knowingly, they both grinned, laughing a little as James' hands slid around Sirius' member. Sirius watched, propped up by the elbows, lips slightly parted as though he were going to say something, but no words came forth. "I already know how to do that," Remus said, "what bloke doesn't—"

But he reached out anyway, and watched Sirius' expression when he reacted to the feel of them on him. Beside Remus, James' hand had been as he'd known it for years— the way he'd steadied Remus' hand on his wand, when the four of them played quidditch, or rousing him from sleep when he'd dozed off in class—

_It really didn't feel that unfamiliar at all._

"Teach him something better, Prongs," Sirius' voice came a little bit hitched, and the muscles at his flat abdomen went momentarily tight; James gazed back knowingly and smirked as in momentary disbelief of his nerve, then raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"All right."

"That's nice for you, isn't it," Remus joked, "lying back like that—"

And Sirius nodded, still smiling, "It is."

Remus secretly admired him; he'd never have the courage to lie there completely disrobed, his best mates experimenting and playing like that, no matter how nice it felt.

Maybe if it were more modest and intimate. Maybe if he weren't so blatantly out on display. But neither Sirius nor James had a concept of modesty, that much he knew all too well.

"Right," James said, hand still moving on Sirius, to the extent that there was room with both their hands there. "Move your hand; watch."

Remus sheepishly drew away. He watched as James scooted back along the mattress, grinning while absently licking his lips, and Sirius propped himself higher on his elbows, really wanting to see this time.

"_You fag…_" he quietly murmured as James just barely brushed his lips against the tip of his member, and he smiled with a mixture of anticipation and triumph, and James turned his head to him quickly and laughed. "Fuck off," he said, and it was visible that here was something he enjoyed doing even for his own accord, even proud and arrogant as he were. Sirius' lips came farther apart with an intake of breath when James took him in his mouth, and Remus watched as though frozen in horror, because who _hadn't_ seen this sort of thing in porn, and who _hadn't_ fantasized about getting to feel it, himself— but seeing it straight out like that, and the fact that it were Sirius and James, it was weird and disturbing and left Remus feeling curiously uncomfortable and very confused.

He felt that again he was intruding; he felt overwhelmed and embarrassed and wholly out of place. Sirius' hand came warmly on his, even as he was visibly affected to the point of tensing, and his speech came forth strained, "Mate, you all right?" he asked, and Remus forced a smile; Sirius' hand was large and gentle, and the slender digits wove firmly in his. Even through James' ministrations, he winked at Remus, with the same mischievous smile that he'd come to know well. "I'll bet you can do it better, Moony. You heard Prongs, _he only likes girls_."

Remus chuckled at the absurdity of it all, he furrowed his brow as he laughed, "I only like girls, too," he said, and he realized how ridiculous it sounded as soon as the words issued forth. Truth be told, he really didn't understand what he felt at all. "Besides," he added quickly, "you just want it 'cause it feels nice."

"Can't lie about that," Sirius said, smile unwavering. "So, you wanna do it?"

Remus' eyes darted across the other boy's face; James was gazing at them both, even while he still was doing it. It was something Remus would never have imagined to see him do, because James really wasn't someone you could picture with another bloke. He was straightforward and classically boyish and wholesome and rough, and he had a charming way with women, as though it came second nature. But it also were true that it always were _Padfoot and Prongs_, and maybe Remus could understand how someone like James who really only fancied girls could do something so intimate with Sirius, and genuinely enjoy it.

"Yeah," he finally said, "I wanna do it."

"Good man," Sirius said, and it was with strained reluctance that he turned to James and asked him to move.

Remus watched James withdraw, his long fingers still on the member and stroking wetly a few times, and his lips were entirely wet, and also his chin, and he wiped at them clumsily with the back of one hand. "You're getting good at that," Sirius told him, and Remus could tell that James didn't know if to take it as a compliment or insult, but it was apparent he was relatively new at it, too.

Sirius already was starting to say something more, but James leaned toward him and kissed him very slowly, his hand still on, still moving, and this time Remus didn't feel so much awkward and out of place as transfixed in a strange fascination.

He was entirely flushed. Sirius kissed James in a way that was pleasure to watch, it was hungry and dirty, but graceful despite that, as though you'd never kiss someone that way unless _they really mattered_.

"_Let him do it_," Sirius' voice came low and hoarse against James' lips, and he was visibly reluctant to stop, but his fingers were tightly entwined in Remus' all the while.

His lips glittered wet when he turned to face him after that, his dark hair swinging a bit at the nape of his neck and he nudged up his chin. "Go on, it's all right."

"Right," Remus said, feeling uncomfortable, but James was enough of a git that if he'd ask him not to look, he'd look deliberately just to give him a hard time. At first thought, it seemed weird to take Sirius in his mouth after James had him in his; at second thought, it was weird to have another bloke's cock in your mouth in the first place.

He brought his hand in place and closed his fingers around the hard member, and again it wasn't so bad; it was human and warm. He thought of how curious it was that he wasn't repulsed to touch another bloke there. It slid wetly and firmly in-between his fingers, and even as he knew it was wetter now because of James, it didn't bother him like he expected it would.

Sirius seemed to like that, as well. He watched, head tilted with a hint of the haughty Black regard you could catch in his face now and then if you knew him well enough, waiting with visible anticipation for Remus to proceed.

Remus bent forth a little, slowly parting his lips and closing his eyes as he tentatively brought the tip to his mouth. He'd tasted himself in the past, just a little, out of curiosity, but he didn't really remember what it was like. It was only a little bit now, relatively speaking, and just a little wasn't bad. His hand around Sirius went slickened and wet, and he felt himself go hard as he took more of the member in.

"_Blimey_," it was James who spoke, and he shook his head as though not knowing what to think.

"That's good. Very good," Sirius said, and his voice came breathy and hoarse, "That's well nice, Moony."

Remus' first impulse was to thank him, but he was unable to speak, and also thanking him for something like that would be strange. James' expression went unreadable, like he didn't know whether to take the piss out of Moony or argue that he could do better.

_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

It was a pretty big deal, what Remus was doing. He'd not even come close to doing something like that with a girl, and if you'd asked him, he'd never in a million years tell you he'd expected to do it with a bloke. It was strange, he had Sirius so close he could taste him on his tongue, and feel the human flesh of his thigh and his hip in his hand, parts of him he'd never thought he'd know from close up. He didn't know what he thought of it.

But he became aware there was an almost painful emotional longing inside him, a possessive, unquenched anguish, and he felt himself a juvenile and inexperienced fool. He'd never wanted to learn to do things with blokes, but now that he was at it, he found he was embarrassed at how little he knew, _and only because it were Sirius_. He didn't want to be inexperienced in front of him. He felt inwardly surprised by how much what Sirius thought suddenly mattered.

"Look at him go," James quietly said, and it didn't come entirely in ridicule; there was a note to his voice that Remus realized was amusement and intrigue, and he stopped just long enough to tell him to shut up. He didn't like being watched, but it wasn't so bad if it were just Sirius and James. They'd seen him at his most wretched hour, the times his painful transformation occurred; when he thought back to something like that, all this seemed trivial in comparison.

"Like this," James said, and his hand came warm on his, steady and somehow gentle as he showed him how to slide it along and angle his wrist while it still were in Remus' mouth, "it feels better for him this way. No. Not like that. Watch."

Sirius, for one, was having a brilliant time. Far from embarrassed, he watched them intently, lips parted with breath and eyes glittering. He was no longer giving feedback about whether or not it was good and merely gazed with vast anticipation, frustrated at the time between when Moony stopped and Prongs had to show him what to do.

Remus felt a bit irritated that James made him stop and had to show him, but he realized he had to be patient, so he moved his hand away and watched; it never stopped being strange. Sirius was very wet by then, the fluid glistened clear over the tip and in wet rivulets between James' long fingers, and, for a moment, Remus thought _it really looked very nice_.

He watched James take him into his mouth with his hand lower down, and when he withdrew entirely, his hand twisted upward and over the tip before he took him in his mouth again; apparently, he knew what he was doing, because Sirius gave a small, desperate cry, and he muttered impulsively, "_Yes, do that—_"

"All right, let me do it," Remus said, now impatient and a little annoyed that he had to be shown.

He could tell James was reluctant to stop, but he went rapidly back to acting the ever-confident leader and guide, prepared to hand Sirius over. He was gentle on pulling away, the member still glittering wet as he lapped the fluid from the tip, transparent streamlets lingering just at the end of his tongue and finally breaking; Remus wondered when exactly it went from being strange to being something that got him hard.

He didn't mind that Sirius felt wet. He didn't mind that he was wet because of James. There came a curious hunger inside him that had him take the member in his hand even before James completely moved off. It was slick and messy, and he didn't hold back that time, his hand went tight around it, he moved it the way that James did before and took him into his mouth.

"_Fuck—_"

Sirius muttered, and Remus felt a thrill of triumph, _he liked it_, it made him want to do it more—

He felt Sirius' fingers come in his hair, a little strained but still light and careful, _faster_, he whispered, voice breathy and hoarse, both impatient and vulnerable—and even though Remus' lips hurt from the pressure of his own teeth against them as to keep them from scraping the flesh, even though his hand was entirely slick and there came wet, profane sounds clearly audible then, he went faster, regardless, trying not to think of how it must look.

James' expression all the while was unreadable. There was envy, there was odd fascination, there was the conflicting desire to help his good friend and his own distinct sense that his best mate was slipping out from his grasp. He never wanted to learn to touch blokes, either, but when it became evident that Remus was quite good at it straight off the bat, he realized with a sense of confusion that he may have been outdone.

_No matter_, he thought, _be happy for Moony, he wanted to learn this and he's doing so well—_

But it hurt even so, and he wasn't sure why. It wouldn't have hurt if it were Padfoot with some bint, or some other bloke, other than the usual concern that he'd beat James in their competition— but watching this unfold had him humbled and pained in the most curious way—

_Humbled_ was something James only ever saved for Sirius.

_He's really gonna get him off_, he thought, and he realized he had to be nice about it.

And there was something else. For a guy as spectacularly self-absorbed as James Potter, he'd come extraordinarily to see that _here was something Moony really wanted_; it was disturbing and touching and far more profound than he'd suspected before, and he wondered how long it'd been that way, and how it came to be that he'd missed something so important about one of his closest friends.

But that was Moony, wasn't it. He kept things quiet, and you didn't know. The werewolf bit was perhaps the most elaborate instance of that.

_Did Moony fancy Padfoot_, he wondered, but he _couldn't_, Moony said, himself, that he only fancied girls— but Prongs was aware that _he only fancied girls_, just the same.

Strange, wasn't it. Strange how watching Moony do it now got him hard. Maybe blokes could get you hot even if you knew you liked women.

It was messy and profane now, Remus' long fingers moved fast and slick, his fringe softly swaying, eyes shut; Sirius was propped by one arm with his other still in Remus' hair, whispering expletives and stifled words and parts of words, telling him that _yes_ and _that's good_ and _don't stop—_

His perfect, flat abdomen was entirely tensed, his hair ruffled and head titled a little bit forth, the leash from his neck snaked down in a dark line across the white of his chest to the mattress below.

He was at his most beautiful then, and James felt compelled as on impulse to kiss him, but he forced himself back; there was a tender twist in his heart that was pain. It never had mattered whom he or Padfoot had snogged or who they had fancied, at the end of the day it had always been _Padfoot and Prongs_. Padfoot was _his_, and what was the big deal, anyway, hadn't Sirius snogged a sizeable fraction of the student body already, and wasn't _friendship_ something entirely separate from that—

But all the while, he felt affection for Remus, particularly because their friend was timid and modest as he were, and he'd approached James on the matter with innocent trust; it wasn't easy for Moony, he knew, to bring up something so intimate. At the end of the day, James cared for his three closest mates just as though they were family.

It was Sirius, though, who kissed James when he finally came. He leaned closer toward him, hair messy and swinging, one arm coming round his back and drawing him close, and James found himself kissing back with just as much fervor for several moments before he deliberately drew away. Sirius' hand had gone tight in Remus' hair, but Remus didn't mind; he was too stunned with the taste of him, the hot pulse of fluid at the back of his throat, and his tongue, and his lips, glistening wet along his fingers and from there farther down—

"No, kiss Moony," James said, and, exhausted, Sirius hung his head forth, his black hair swaying in a shimmering veil that James gently brushed back, and he turned toward Remus, one hand on his shoulder. He tilted Remus' chin upward a bit, murmuring, "_Bloody hell_," as he reached with one finger to clean the thin stream of liquid that glittered out the corner of his mouth.

Remus' lips had gone red and raw with exertion, his mouth and his chin were entirely wet, he was breathing out slowly now that he could do so more freely; James patted him on the back and prompted him toward Sirius, whose breath still was fast after climax and who laughed knowingly, tiredly, and pulled Remus close by the hand.

He raised his eyebrows as in appreciation and intrigue, both his hands coming in Remus' hair as he brushed the strands back. "Let me look at you," he said, and Remus gazed back with a mixture of amusement and unease, suddenly shy but not unhappy. Sirius smirked. "He's so dirty, Prongs. When did our Moony get so dirty?"

"Fuck off," Remus said, but he was smiling, aware he was messy but also that Sirius liked what he'd done.

"I don't know," James replied as he watched Sirius kiss him, and his voice came laden with both tenderness and pain, and also with unmistakable arousal; "do you reckon it's our bad influence?"

"It's definitely our bad influence," Sirius said, his voice now breathy and low; he held Remus' head with both hands while he reached gently to lap at the fluid from his face. Remus gasped silently, his hands partway to the other boy's wrists, but he didn't pry them off. He'd never felt someone else do something like this.

"That was brilliant, Moony," Sirius said encouragingly as he kissed him, "you're a natural fag."

Remus let out a cry of surprise, then another _fuck off_, and Sirius pointed at James, "not as much as you, though."

"Why, what's Prongs done?" Remus asked, and James rolled his eyes with a groan of exasperation, "_Don't tell him…_"

"No, I want to know," Remus insisted, because here was something undoubtedly interesting.

"You want to know," Sirius repeated, and it was exactly like all the times Padfoot and Prongs had come up with some devious scheme, and, even with the prominent _P_ glimmering at the front of his robes, Moony insisted he _wanted to know_.

"Yeah, all right," James said, and then, "Moony, you sure?"

As with all their devious schemes, Remus felt a little afraid, but also vastly curious and intrigued to know what they'd come up with that time. "Yeah, tell me already," he said.

Sirius grinned, scooting back on the bed, and even now after climax that he was messy and spent, there still was elegant grace to him that was distinctly Black, and he bent one leg over the side of the mattress as he reached to where his robe lay in a mess on the floor. He rummaged a bit through the inside before fishing out his wand and then sat back up on the bed.

"Now, Moony," he said, with the same glint in his eye that came before every devious scheme, "this truly is _for the brave of heart_."

Remus raised an eyebrow; James laughed.

"Come to think of it, you know—" Sirius said, and he edged toward James, "why am I the only one without clothes on, not like we don't see Moony naked every month at the Shack, not like you've not seen each other without clothes on before—"

He already was pulling off James' school vest, and James was helping along, nodding at what sounded like sound deduction of reason; he had no qualms about being naked, even with everyone at the quidditch pitch watching.

Remus began to protest. It was true that they'd all seen each other, but not under this amount of scrutiny. He'd not spent the past five years comparing and contrasting sizes the way the other two had, or having a wank together while staring at the same porn magazine.

"Come off it, Moony," Sirius said, and again it was exactly like the times he'd expressed qualms about some frightfully mischievous plan they'd come up with that was certain to get all four of them expelled, "Are you in on it or not?"

"I'm…in on it," Remus offered reluctantly, and James said, "there's a lad," glasses sliding askew off his nose as he pulled his vest off.

The others had seen Remus disrobed many more times than he'd seen them, considering all the mornings after his transformation, when he'd wake up stark naked and in a great deal of pain, curled uncomfortably on the creaking old mattress against the still-sleeping figure of the large, scruffy dog.

Their clothes had come off in a disheveled, unkempt pile on the side of the bed by the drape, and Sirius settled down with the wand in his hands, twirling it proficiently as he spoke.

"How should we do it then?" he asked as though thinking it through, and Remus thought it really didn't feel all that odd, and, as in all the ridiculous schemes he'd found himself agreeing to in the past, it felt good to be included along.

"What are we doing, then?" he asked impatiently, annoyed that he'd still not been told.

"Hold your horses, we'll show you soon enough," Sirius said, and then turned to James. "Doesn't seem fair to have me do it to you again, does it?"

James smiled defiantly; here was a challenge.

"Absolutely not," he replied with his most charming grin.

"What do you say, Prongs? Wanna do it to me, pretend I was Evans?"

James smirked, leaning back against the wall and absolutely unbothered with the fact that he was completely disrobed. "If we're gonna teach Moony, it ought to be you."

Sirius considered, still not entirely convinced. He made a motion toward the pack of cigarettes that still sat at the bedside table, but stopped himself, remembering the smoke bothered Remus. They also ought to teach him to smoke, at least once.

"Reckon we should do it to Moony?" he asked, as though trying to decide whether or not it would be a good plan, and now Remus was more curious than ever to know what it was. "Do what to me?" he insisted, aware that he'd already agreed and unsure if he liked where it was going; he was sure there were a lot of dirty things Prongs would have liked to do with Evans.

"Right, let's do it to Moony," Sirius said conclusively at last, and he tapped Remus lightly on the knee, "Don't worry, you'll be all right."

"Wait—" Remus said, "didn't you say it was only _for the brave of heart_?"

James grinned as he pulled himself away from the wall, "that's right," he said, patting him, as well, "and you're brave of heart, aren't you?"

It was _exactly_ the way they'd reeled him into all their crazy plans.

He gazed at them suspiciously, from one to the other and back.

"Y…_yeah…_" he said reluctantly.

"Good man."

_To be continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

They had Remus lie down on his back. It was embarrassing, but not as bad as he expected, because they were discussing the logistics of it all throughout, and they were so casually _Padfoot and Prongs_ the way he'd always known them that, in a sense, it really did feel like another one of their schemes.

"All right, Moony?" Sirius asked, and Remus nodded, his long legs stretched carefully over the covers, the digits of his hands prying idly at the sheets. Sirius stopped a moment to gaze him up and down, and it really wasn't like he'd not seen him disrobed in the past, but now he was really paying attention. He moved the slack end of his leash aside so it wouldn't interfere and reached with curious attention to slide one hand over Moony's shoulder, then his chest, the alternating ridges of ribs and his flat abdomen from there, and Remus squirmed because it tickled, and then turned on his side and laughed.

James snickered; Sirius smiled. "That tickle?" he asked, and Remus returned to lying on his back, abdominal muscles still tense as he padded absently at his stomach and laughed, "Yeah, sorry—"

"Where else you ticklish?" Sirius asked, and Remus shook his head. "Just here," he said, long fingers tapping at his flat abdomen, and Sirius laid his hand gently there, deliberately slow so it wouldn't affect him so much. "Here?" he asked, and Remus nodded.

"Right, I'll be careful there."

His long limbs folded elegantly as he proceeded then to lie down over Remus, one leg in-between his thighs and one beside him, and Remus stiffened all at once, gazing in mute panic around him and scrambling to prop himself up by the elbows; _it was too much_.

"Oi…!" he stammered, going entirely red, and James shook his head, "Too soon, mate."

Sirius gazed down at the boy panicking beneath him, one eyebrow raised. "Moony," he shook his head, "Come off it."

"I've— not—"

"_Shh—_" Sirius leaned his face very close to Remus', black hair draping over his face as he kissed him. "You've not lain down with someone else without clothes on."

Remus didn't reply; he was frozen partway in place after the kiss, legs bent a little in a forgotten attempt at escape.

"Right, Moony," Sirius said, and it was the same tone of voice as when he'd speak to him in class or on the lawn, "What was it you asked Prongs the other day?"

For a moment, Remus wasn't sure to what he'd referred; but he remembered soon enough. "I asked… I asked what you were like—"

He was defeated and a little embarrassed. Sirius smiled, gently kissing him again.

"_Did you?_" his voice issued humid and warm, lips just brushing on his.

Slowly, Remus' legs relaxed on the mattress and his hands came very carefully over Sirius' sides.

"_I…I did—_"

"_And what did Prongs ask you?_" the words ghosted immaterial in the small space between them, just barely audible.

Remus flushed. "He asked if I…if I wanted…."

"_Wanted what?_"

"_If I wanted to f…fuck you—_"

Sirius regarded him quietly for several moments, almost kissing again when his voice came low and hoarse; "_And do you?_"

There came a long pause. Remus' breath trembled against the other boy's lips; even James stared with curious fascination, for once at a loss for words.

"_Who doesn't_," Remus murmured back.

James smirked.

Sirius finally kissed Remus, drawing slowly away with a satisfied smile. His voice was still empathetic, but back to more of his usual tone. "Right then, come off it."

"That ought to make him much less _nervous_, Pads," James said, now twirling Sirius' wand expertly in one hand.

"Sod off."

It definitely made Remus _more_ nervous; but it also got him hot, and he wondered how much of it Sirius actually meant. He didn't _really_ mean _all the way_, did he, had they really gone that far…?

His hands slid gently over Sirius' back; it was flawless and smooth, there were the protruding iliac crests at his hips, his member still a bit wet from before; _I can't do _this, Remus thought, if_ that's really what he—_

He'd told them he was _brave of heart_, but something like this was complex—

Then again, no one said they were actually talking specifically about sex; it occurred to him that if it were that simple, they'd likely have told him outright. Sirius finally withdrew from above him, long arms sliding away as he moved backward and finally took his place between Remus' legs. He took note of the fact that Remus was completely hard and smirked knowingly, because he was hard, too, and he reached to take him in his hand.

As on impulse, Remus' hands darted toward his in modesty as to keep him from doing so, but Sirius got there first. "What, you want me to ignore it?" he asked, and Remus stared at his large hand on him and the fingers gently moving.

"No—just—"

"Just what?"

"Just—it's—_sensitive—_"

Sirius raised an eyebrow; his hand still was moving.

"_Bollocks_," Remus muttered, eyes closing and head dropping back on the sheets.

"Good man."

Moving farther back, Sirius then leaned over him, and it was the sweep of his hair past Remus' abdomen that got his attention again, and this time no protest issued forth, but instead Remus watched transfixed as Sirius slid his tongue to lap at just the very tip of his member.

"_Fucking hell—_"

It came desperate and strained, and Remus' expression froze completely in a moment of astonishment, because _it was every bit as good as he'd heard_.

"_Do that again—_"

He sputtered, and James let out a bark of laughter, and Sirius snickered, as well, "That's well cute—"

Remus didn't care. Far past the point of shame, he only wanted to feel it again. "Shut up, both of you, Padfoot, please—"

"Should've started with that, Pads," James remarked, "he'd give you much less trouble."

Remus meant to tell him to shut up again, but the words never came. He didn't care; what Sirius did to him then was, hands down, the best thing he'd ever felt. When Padfoot went back to doing it, Moony clutched hard at the sheets, muttering expletives under his breath as he turned his head aside and shut his eyes. Now James was watching with mild amusement, he actually slid Sirius' hair aside so that he could see.

"Yeah—" Sirius said as he momentarily drew his mouth away, "Reckon you're right, I should've started with that."

"_Fuck off_," Remus breathed halfheartedly, but it was true that he'd gone completely complacent; he thought he'd let Sirius do anything he wanted if he only kept _that_ up. Sirius took him back in his mouth and ran his tongue on him, and he was as good at that as he was at kissing; he took him all the way in until it slid against the back of his throat, and James called him a slag, and Remus cursed in desperation—

His member emerged slick and brilliant when it slipped back out, and Sirius slid his hand firmly along the wet length, profane sounds issuing forth; "C'mere, Prongs," he said, and Remus was caught in a moment of something like panic, but it went mostly forgotten when Sirius lapped at him again.

"It's you he wants to shag, mate," James said.

"Will you just come here?"

_Coming here_ when prompted was also something James reserved only for Sirius.

The wet member glistened slick in his hand, fluid emanating clear from the tip and streaming over Sirius' fingers and down along its length; he took him in his mouth for a few moments more before withdrawing, liquid clinging to his lips when he moved away. James regarded him as though trying to decide on the most appropriate derogatory term, but before he'd made up his mind, Sirius said simply, "Open—" and he held his slick fingers up to James' lips.

James gazed back in confusion. "Mate, that's Moony."

"Yeah," Sirius said, and he pressed the fingers deliberately into James' mouth, "that's Moony."

James' eyebrows rose to his hairline, but before he could reach with his hands to take the digits out, the damage was done; they already were pressed down inside his mouth, and he let a small sound of defeat. Sirius was grinning triumphantly when he slid them back out, then traced a line along James' lower lip before he moved in to kiss him.

"I worry about you, Pads," James said as he slowly moved away, and he watched as Sirius bent down over Remus to take him into his mouth again.

"Right, Prongs, don't be a tit now, I need your help."

"Bloody hell, you didn't need help when you did it to me."

"You were complacent."

"He's complacent."

"Wouldn't be so complacent if I stopped, would he?"

"I can hear everything you're saying—" Remus interjected, but it took effort of him to concentrate enough.

"See? He's not complacent."

Remus would have protested more, and Sirius knew he would, so he went back to his ministrations after that. He spoke from over the tip of Remus' member when he asked James over again.

"Come on already."

James hesitated before putting the wand down and taking his place at Remus' side. Sirius withdrew, his lips and chin and the sides of his mouth entirely wet, and he regarded James with a challenging smirk. "Remember, _brave of heart_." For a few moments, he could almost see the inner conflict play out within James before arrogance won and he accepted the challenge.

"Right, on with it, then," James finally said.

Remus again was partway to protesting when he realized what was about to transpire, but it happened anyway. James leaned over him and actually took him in his mouth, and whatever words Remus had prepared died at the back of his throat as he stared with mute astonishment.

"_Prongs—_"

He whispered weakly in a moment of stunned surrender; James actually winked.

Remus spent the next several seconds staring mutely at him, thinking that certainly James would much rather be with Evans, or much rather be with Sirius, and aware he'd never intended to do it to _him_. "_You don't— have to—"_ he said so softly it was barely audible, and James became aware Remus had gone very shy.

He wanted to tell him it was just for a laugh, and that he shouldn't worry himself over it, or he's just helping out Padfoot— but he didn't say any of that. "We're all up to no good, Moony," he replied instead, "_of course we have to_."

Sirius shook his head and emitted a chuckle of amusement, "Thank you, Mister Prongs."

He moved farther back on the mattress between Remus' legs, then carefully pressed his thighs apart; he heard Remus begin to murmur, "_What are you—_" when he proceeded gently to kiss his inner thigh, hands caressing the tender flesh there. "Shut up, you'll like this," he muttered, and then reached carefully to tongue at his entrance. Remus gasped in complete surprise, as though entirely astonished that _this felt good_.

_To be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

"That Sirius Black is a right prat." Lily dangled her legs down onto the frozen earth from where she was sat on a large stone they'd climbed, just at the edge of the woods. At her side, Severus said nothing. He knew it was too soon to rejoice in such a thing; the fact that she spoke of it meant it was on her mind, and he had a pretty good guess as to why she thought it; it wasn't because James Potter and his gaggle of idiots were arrogant, insufferable bullies.

It was little solace to Severus that Potter, Black, and Lupin never made it to Hogsmeade that day and that he had Lily all to himself, because she seemed more preoccupied with them than he'd seen her before. She'd never been very nice toward Potter, and Severus took consolation in her dislike toward him; there was a small part of him that guiltily hoped there really was something between Potter and Black, scandalous and dirty as it seemed, so that James would stop fancying Lily. He gazed down at his own feet dangling over the edge, bitter that his time alone with her still somehow made him feel like the odd man out.

He also felt disappointed that something so shallow had come to affect her. Lily was the type of girl who appreciated a wizard for his mind, his goodness of heart and his character. It was with a bout of pain and surprise that he'd realized she was human, after all, and that, like everyone human, she succumbed to physical temptation.

He wasn't sure what to say in consolation. What he wanted to say was _but do you ever think of me?_ He wanted to tell her there was nothing alluring about anything Potter and Black did together, but she was pretending there wasn't in a way that made it painfully obvious there was.

He picked absently at a loose thread at the edge of her robe, sliding it over the white tip of his finger. "Yeah, they're all prats," he said, wishing they'd thought it for the same reason.

XXX

You think trite things when you're so vulnerable. When arousal overwhelms shame and _you don't care_, you don't care if it's graceless and grotesque and profane, there still remained a distant voice in Remus' mind on about how Padfoot was doing something so obscene, and that every day after that when he'd have to face Prongs, he'd be reminded he'd sucked him off; but it got so hard to listen, he'd succumbed to it entirely and thought it was love, that nothing else mattered and that _he loved them both—_

Sirius' large hands pressed tight against his behind, holding him apart as he lapped at his entrance. His breath came muffled, his tongue started to hurt, and _he got hard doing it, too_, he'd leave stains of fluid on the covers with his hips pressed down like that—

James could see him from only inches away. _It was so profoundly dirty_, the way that even while he did it, he met James' eyes, and James almost stopped caring for a moment that it was Moony in his mouth, _it got him hard, too—_

"_Padfoot, you slag_," he mouthed, the member just barely out past his lips, and it came with both ridicule and morbid fascination, and something indiscernible that sounded a lot like respect; Sirius' laugh came muffled and breathy, eyes momentarily shut as he pulled away, and James felt his face go hot at how wet he was around the mouth. Sirius reached with one hand and gripped James round the back of the neck, then forced him deliberately closer, pressing his mouth hard on his, deliberately slow, deliberately tight, _to make sure he got a good taste of him that he wouldn't forget_.

James' brow furrowed; his voice came muffled and his breath issued fast through his nose. He put up a bit of a fight, but already he was kissing back, he pulled Sirius forth by the place where the leash met his collar at the base of his neck, he'd got far past the point of wondering how much of a _fag_ he must be—

"_Rubbish, Prongs, you're every bit as much of a slag_," Sirius murmured, "_you wish you were doing this to me_—"

"You know what I want to do to you," there came the response, and James kissed him hungrily, deliberately licking his lips and his chin, and Sirius' laugh came low and hoarse, "Yeah, I know—"

He didn't take his eyes off James as he slowly took the member in past his lips, sucking deliberately loud, _he made it look so good—_

He barely withdrew before James seized his mouth again, voice low and strained with desperation, he thought he _wanted_ to taste him, he thought anything off Sirius _tasted so nice—_

When Sirius withdrew after that to return to his ministrations between Remus' thighs, James tilted his head down toward him, still stroking the member wetly in his hand as he went in to kiss him again; Sirius, who already had his tongue partway in past the entrance, drew away reluctantly, fluid still glistening from his mouth to the opening when James kissed him again, and his eyes fluttered shut as with frustration and hunger.

"_If Evans knew you're doing this—_" he breathed, and he kept his hand tight at the back of James' neck after he withdrew, forcing him deliberately down to the wet perineum.

"Fuck's sake, Padfoot—"

James' voice came breathless and muffled, Sirius leaned close so that he was speaking just at the shell of his ear, "_You wish you were doing that to me, too—_" he said, and James went silent, struggling weakly to turn away. Sirius' tongue came at the delicate folds of his ear, and James gasped despite himself, murmuring, "_F—fuck—_"

When finally he did begin to lap at Remus, Sirius bit his ear gently, "_Tell Evans you did that, she'll call you a toerag, then fuck you for sure—_"

Remus listened to everything they said. He was stunned, he was afraid, he'd not heard Sirius talk like that before that day. Somewhere inside him, he felt immensely vulnerable and uneasy, light years away in terms of maturity and like he decidedly didn't fit in. The fact that James was also new to this sort of thing with blokes didn't make him feel better; he wondered how it was that even when they both were having at him, it still felt like they were there with each other.

But it felt so good, he was so overwhelmed with sensation, when they went back to touching him it became so hard to focus on anything else. He was only vaguely aware in the back of his mind that he didn't belong.

When Sirius decided that James had had enough, he pulled him away slowly from in-between Remus' thighs, and he held his chin up toward him as he inspected his face; James would never, never let anyone else manipulate him this way. "Was that good?" Sirius breathed, but before giving him a chance to reply, he kissed him again, very slowly, voice issuing in a low moan of approval before he withdrew, and then murmured, "He tastes nice, doesn't he."

James tried to kiss him again, but Sirius pushed him away. "Not now," he said, reaching to press one finger to James' lips. James allowed it, voice coming in low protest as it depressed onto his tongue and then farther back, and finally Sirius slid it out again; he returned his attention to Remus, asking James to move before pressing the wet digit to the small entrance. Ah, there was Moony, his voice came sharp and distinct as in warning, and, digit still partway inside, Sirius turned to kiss his thigh, saying, "_Shh_," _there's a lad…_

Remus didn't really calm down. What they did to him before, that was brilliant. This felt decidedly uncomfortable and invasive, and brought him back to awareness all at once.

"Just with my tongue, then?" Sirius asked, and his voice was gentle and compassionate, the way you'd talk to a child. "All right."

Remus didn't reply; he was propped by his elbows now, but he couldn't see what Sirius was doing. James had stopped his ministrations, as well, ever since kissing Sirius before, and was stroking him absently, but mostly he was watching Sirius. Remus calmed down a little when he felt Sirius' tongue on him again, it felt much nicer than with his finger. Truth be told, he wanted to tell them to stop and to leave him alone. But it really felt so nice, and he realized brokenly he couldn't tell Sirius to leave even if he wanted to.

How could someone who touched you so attentively, so expertly that it felt like he was taking care of you, like he _loved_ you—how could he make you feel so profoundly wretched inside— now that he loved in earnest, Remus found himself wishing he never had come to know what it's like at all.

_It's a daft thing_, he thought, _thinking you've fallen in love just because someone's sucked your cock._

Sirius switched girlfriends—and boyfriends—the way he switched socks, everyone at school knew that. Remus wondered how many people fell for him the way he did, just because he was so good with his tongue. But, all the while, he didn't ask him to stop. Disgusted as he felt with himself, he wanted him to stay and touch him even more, even if he spoke to James all throughout, in dirty words that made Remus feel he'd never known him at all—even if he'd always be closer to James than to him; it was a bitter anguish he'd not known before.

"You can do it," he murmured weakly, "you can do it with your finger if you want—"

Sirius and James were both taken off guard when he suddenly spoke. They turned to face him, one after the next; James muttered, "Bollocks, Padfoot, stop."

It was difficult with Moony. He didn't tell you stuff, and you didn't know.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked, brow furrowing, head tilting sideward, his chin and his lips still entirely wet.

Remus stared back; they'd been lost in their own world for so long, he didn't expect they'd turn their attention to him. He felt uneasy; he never asked them to do any of that stuff, he'd enjoyed it so much when they did it, as well, and he felt suddenly ungrateful.

"Too perverted for him," Sirius said, "it was too much."

Remus shook his head, "No, I… what bloke doesn't want…"

But Sirius shook his head and murmured, "It was too soon," and Remus was about to say something in response when James interrupted,

"Kiss him, mate."

Sirius turned his head to him, taken off guard. James tilted his chin in Remus' direction, now letting go of him and scooting back on the bed so he was leaning up against the wall again. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. "I told you not to be a cock."

Remus felt decidedly uneasy; he forced a smile, more embarrassed that they felt they had to stop on his account than he'd ever been to have them touch him in the first place. "Nothing's wrong, honest," he insisted, "I said you could do it with your finger if you wanted, I know what blokes do together, it's all right—"

"You're right, Prongs," Sirius said, now getting up on his knees and carefully maneuvering his elegant limbs from over Remus' legs, then making his way over to his side. He sat down cross-legged beside him, gazing down with a smile, and Remus said, "What?" He felt annoyed and sheepish that his reluctance was given such scrutiny, "I said it was—"

"Come off it, Moony," Sirius said, and now Remus began to pull his legs in and sat up, as well. "We've known you how long?

Remus forced a chuckle, bending his knees up and sliding his arms around them. Sirius grinned as he nudged him on the shoulder, then briskly ruffled his hair before finally reaching for the cigarettes at the side of the bed.

James watched as he lit one and brought it to his mouth, drawing slowly, running one hand through his hair to brush it back. "What's up, Moony," Sirius asked.

"Padfoot," James sighed as he reached to take the cigarette from him, and he took a long drag as he leaned back against the wall, "Take him out on a proper date."

Remus shot a stare at him before even realizing he'd done so; his face went entirely hot.

Sirius went quiet, mouth frozen partway to whatever he was going to say next; his brow furrowed. For a moment, he seemed like he was trying to figure out how to reply, and finally he turned back to Remus.

"Oi—" Remus sputtered, forcing a laugh, "Wait, I never—"

"Yeah, all right," Sirius said, and he smiled lightheartedly as he proceeded to ruffle Remus' hair again, "That what's bothering you?"

"Nothing's bothering me, I never said—"

"Shut up, Moony," James interjected, "you've not changed since first year." He nudged his foot against Sirius' thigh, "Don't listen to him. Ask him out."

Sirius turned to James and hit him lightly on the forehead with the back of his hand before taking the cigarette back. Remus felt profoundly daft, aware suddenly he'd been in the company of his best mates all along. He groaned audibly while dropping his head into his crossed arms on his knees and hiding his face, toes tapping slowly on the bed.

"Moony," Sirius said, leaning deliberately close so that he was speaking just at his ear, "Mister Prongs has brought to my attention that I'm to take a bloke out on a proper date before licking his arse."

He snickered; James laughed and cursed him as he watched.

Remus raised his head up from his crossed arms and stared at Sirius with an incredulous smile.

Sirius took a draw of his cigarette. "Ergo…" he started, but cut off laughing again before managing more, and now James was laughing openly.

"Ergo…" he started again, then turned to James and blew the smoke deliberately in his face. James coughed and cursed at him again, waving the smoke away with one hand; Sirius turned back to Remus, now sliding one arm casually around his still-naked back. "I'm asking you out on a _proper date_."

Remus felt he was being made fun of. "Are you having a laugh?" he asked, and both Sirius and James chimed in, "No—"

"No, he's asking you out, Moony," James said, courageously fighting back any pain it caused him and managing expertly to seem unbothered.

Remus gazed suspiciously at Sirius.

"I'm really not…!" Sirius said, trying to compose his laughter when he spoke again. "I'm really not, I'm not having a laugh."

"You really—"

"Say _yes_, Moony," James rolled his eyes, and finally Remus muttered, "All right, sorry, _yes_."

_To be continued…_


	9. Chapter 9

Up on the wall in Slughorn's class there was a photo depicting the professor along with a handful of students, all beaming politely at the camera. Remus gazed at it absently, watching photo-Slughorn pat them amicably on the back, the students grinning nervously as though somehow uncomfortable to be there but too well-mannered to act. There was Regulus Black, Sirius' brother, dutifully shaking Slughorn's hand, the _good son_ who'd been everything Sirius was not.

Remus was willing to bet he'd never held a cigarette in his life. Looking at the photo, you could tell they were brothers, Sirius the more handsome of the two but bearing a striking resemblance. Sirius would never wind up in the Slug Club, that's for sure. They didn't hang out together at school. Like proper brothers, they each pretended they weren't related at all, and it was a good thing, too, because according to Sirius, his brother had a lot of disturbing ideas about blood purity. He's an insufferable little twat, Padfoot had said, mimicking to the others the way Regulus spoke about Death Eaters and the _Dark Lord_, just to win their mother's affection.

Maybe Sirius was justified in his resentment, even if he did sound like an arse when he ridiculed him that way; fact of the matter was, Sirius said frightfully malicious things about most of his family. It made you uncomfortable to hear even if you told yourself he had good reason, because your family is part of you, after all.

It became evident straight away that whatever had gone on between Potter and Black wasn't going on anymore, to the vast disappointment of witches at all houses. They'd been so _dirty_. They'd been so blatant about it, and pulled it off so well. Lily didn't agree to go out with James when he asked her that week, but she did show unmistakable interest, she tried to ask without being too obvious what it was that had happened between him and Sirius. He'd been on the verge of making some suggestive, arrogant joke that would imply something scandalous, but thought better of it— whatever he'd tell her would likely propagate throughout the girls' dorm, and that would be well good if Sirius wasn't dating Remus.

He pretended instead to miss her subtle remarks, leaving her frustrated and exasperated with him, but that's how he liked her—if she didn't get annoyed with him, she wouldn't be Evans, and James believed she must take some sort of dark pleasure in his pursuit.

She went to Sirius, then.

She disliked him at least as much as she disliked James, and he reveled in the opportunity to aggravate her more.

"If it isn't Evans," he said without looking up when she approached him during a free period at the Great Hall. She regarded him with animosity before settling down gracelessly at his side.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked.

She glared like a petulant child, and didn't even know why. "I can't get answers out of James," she said bluntly.

He snickered, still not looking up from his book. "I'm certain you can get anything you fancy out of James."

"You lot were—"

He rolled his eyes upward from under his hair, blinked once, raised an eyebrow.

She pursed her lips shut.

"Whatever are you on about?" he asked.

"_You bloody well know what I'm on about._"

He finally turned fully to face her, arms crossed over his chest. He waited for her to go on; she hated him for doing so.

She looked down, then back up, then aside, and then tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. Her voice came hushed and embarrassed when she spoke, "What went on between you?"

"Why are you so interested?"

"I'm not—!"

"Ask James, he'd love to tell you."

"I've asked him already." Not quite. _Not in so many words_.

He brought his hands to the tabletop and slid closer to her, uncomfortably close, so that she scooted farther back, and he murmured, "You wanna hear about how he _fucked_ me?" he asked, deliberately enunciating the word and raising his eyebrows, because that was the rumor, wasn't it, that Sirius _lost it_ to James.

She flushed, mouth opening in astonishment and began to scramble for the proper term to convey denial and disgust and offense all at once, and also to indicate she'd like for him to say more—

"_Did he?_" she whispered.

Sirius laughed. "Evans, Evans, Evans…why don't you just go out with James?"

"Don't change the subject…!"

"We were just experimenting," he finally said, "he doesn't fancy blokes."

Lily appeared decidedly disappointed. Her eyes searched his face for a few moments before she said, "But it seemed like…"

"It seemed like he did?"

She nodded.

"Look, why are you asking me all this stuff? He'd love to tell you, I'm sure."

She didn't say anything for a few moments after that, appearing entirely dissatisfied.

"Is he…" she finally asked, voice going very quiet, and she looked around to see if anyone might overhear, "_is he any good?_"

Sirius stared back in complete surprise, emitting a chuckle of laughter, and she shushed him, wholly embarrassed by what she'd asked.

"Evans…" he said, now clapping both hands down at the side of the table and leaning closer to her, eyes narrowing and smile going bright and toothy, "_Oh, yes, he is good_."

XXX

Remus felt mortified when he thought back to all that had happened the other day. But also, there were undeniable pleasurable thrills dancing inside him when he thought back to what getting head had been like. He'd confessed to Sirius with sheepish contentment that he'd liked it a lot, and Sirius chuckled, regarding him with an amused stare. "You tit," he said, "of course you _liked it_."

Taking him out on a proper date wasn't straightforward, because the next outing to Hogsmeade wasn't for some time, and they weren't allowed out that far otherwise. Considering the four of them had found a number of secret passages out of the castle, it remained a matter of finding the right time to sneak out when they weren't tied up with other obligations and wouldn't be seen.

By that time, all of Gryffindor house was aware that _Potter is very good_, and that it was Black who had said so. All of Gryffindor house was also aware that Black was dating Lupin, but because Sirius had a long history of not staying in relationships for long, witches already were taking bets on how long it would last— perhaps to have something to amuse themselves with now that James and Sirius weren't at it anymore.

Remus was aware of this, too. But, all the while, Padfoot remained the same old Padfoot as he'd known him for years, and friendship went deeper than dating ever did. He noticed, like everyone else, that Sirius and James had stopped their dirty games together, and it made him feel guilty, but it was James who'd told Sirius to ask Remus out. He almost felt compelled to tell him he was okay with them doing it, if it was just for a laugh, if it was just physical, Evans was the one James actually fancied, after all—

But what sort of wretched relationship did you have if you even fancied snogging someone else…?

"Do you miss it," he asked, absently toying with a plastic shopping bag on their exit from Honeyduke's, and Sirius regarded him with mild interest, hands in his pockets and scarf trailing behind him as they walked.

"Snogging's not everything," there came the response, and Remus wondered if it really wasn't, and if that's really all there was between him and James. "Reckon I'll go slow with you, Moony."

Remus watched him as they proceeded along the walkway, his black hair billowing in the wind, and it occurred to him that now that the competition between Sirius and James was over, maybe there no longer was a pressing need to be profane. "Who says I want to go slow," he replied, "I've not said I didn't like it."

"You don't say a lot of things."

Remus began to say something, but he realized he'd not been prepared to hear something like that. "What do you mean?" he asked, and Sirius shrugged. "Did you fancy going out on a date with me?" he said, and Remus gazed down to the earth, where his trainers drew tracks in the mud.

"I'd not thought of it," he replied honestly, and Sirius nodded. He came to a halt, his hair whipping all around his face, hands still in his pockets. Remus stopped, as well, looking back expectantly, unsure of what Sirius had to say but aware it seemed important.

"Did you fancy me?" Sirius asked.

Remus stared back, lips parted, eyes squinting against the wind. The scarf around his neck rustled like a long red and gold snake, and he rubbed his hands together against the cold, looking down.

"Yeah," he finally said, and he went quiet after that.

Sirius nodded. He made a motion to hold his hands to his sides while they were still in his pockets. "That's what I mean. You don't say anything."

Remus gave a laugh. "You don't just—how many people just—"

"I wouldn't have snogged Prongs if I knew."

Whatever Remus was going to say next never came, his lips frozen in the shape of an _O_. He gazed at Sirius for a long time, his hair messily ruffling, his scarf still whipping around.

"I thought—" he started, then stopped, then started again, as though struggling to bring himself to say it outright, "—I thought you lot fancied each other—"

Sirius gazed down at the ground, kicking absently into the dirt with the toe of one foot. "Prongs is special," he said.

Remus nodded slowly, unsurprised but no more pleased to hear it outright. "Do you fancy me," he asked, still squinting as he looked up.

"Wouldn't be here, would I?"

Remus took it in quietly. Several seconds had passed before he said, "You'd not said anything, either."

"I'd not thought of it."

"You—"

Sirius raised both hands to his sides, now out of his pockets. He chuckled with childlike innocence when he said, "I don't _fancy_ people, Moony—"

"You've just said—"

"I know what I've just said. You lot are—_special_."

"_We lot_."

"Yes—you, Prongs, and Wormtail."

"You_ fancy_ us all."

"Moony…"

What was true was that he really did love them all; they were the real family he'd never had. He realized that dating someone who actually knew him was complicated.

"All right," he sighed, "I reckon I've _fancied_ you since Prongs told me what you asked him in potions. I guess. I don't know."

Remus, who was halfway to lamenting inwardly how much he loathed Sirius, looked up with a curious bout of surprise.

It wasn't convincing. It didn't really make sense, and also, if that were true, it would make Sirius guilty of the same _not saying anything_ he'd accused him of. Most importantly, though, _he'd still snogged James after the fact_.

He wanted to be satisfied that Sirius had really asked him out, that he'd really said he'd _fancied_ him, but he felt more compelled to think that _Sirius just didn't fancy people_. All the while, more than anything, he didn't want to lose him to the extent that he'd had him.

He kicked a rock off the path and watched as it skidded and rolled to the side of the road. There was something pleasurable about having him there to himself, even if he didn't like himself for thinking so; the fact remained that you couldn't make someone else love you, and if he fancied Sirius, it wasn't Sirius' fault. He found himself racking his brain for anything that would justify being upset with him, but found to his own humble astonishment that it was only he, himself, whose feelings had changed, and he couldn't find a good reason to blame Sirius. It occurred to him that Sirius' attitude toward him was a surprise to no one but himself.

It wasn't that Padfoot _disliked_ him; far from it, he was the same amicable friend he'd always known, and Remus found it exasperating, because he couldn't blame him for how wretched he felt. He wanted so much to hear him say anything that would reassure him that _Padfoot was his_, but it never came. He found himself _not saying stuff_ more than ever before, because he'd become so acutely aware of what Padfoot didn't feel, and he thought he'd rather die than have to endure it gently and compassionately explained to him.

He'd already been asleep that night when Sirius climbed in his bed without a word, without underhanded intent beyond that. It warmed his heart to find him there in the morning, long hair disheveled and stubble overgrown, his long limbs in a disarrayed tangle all through the sheets. He found he was grateful for every bit of kindness— though no matter how tightly he held him, he felt that he never could hold him in earnest.

XXX

He'd fallen behind on his homework. He'd stayed up routinely to get it done and hadn't slept properly that entire week, he nearly dozed off into his oatmeal one morning when there came the loud flutter of owls flying through with the post. He startled, nearly knocking Wormtail's pumpkin juice aside, but it wasn't because of the owls; Sirius scrambled out of the bench all at once, eyes alight with enthusiasm as he darted after one of the owls, which wasn't flying toward him at all. James gave a cry of delight when he realized what it was about, and now the three of them looked on, as well as several others seated nearby.

Reaching expertly into the air, Sirius caught the poor bird by one leg while it ruffled and cooed in his grasp, and finally released it with a whirl of loose feathers after ripping the note from its foot. _Bollocks_, Remus thought, and it might have amused him the way it amused Wormtail and Prongs if he'd not felt so crestfallen of late, there Sirius stood with the note held high over his head, Regulus hitting him and pulling his robes as he tried to reach for the letter. Regulus' perfect black hair swayed and he seemed almost childlike, robes swinging, cursing Sirius under his breath with cries of _give it back…!_

James clapped his hands in appreciation, egging Sirius on as he proceeded to orate the letter aloud, complete with embarrassing affections from their mother and concerns about how well Regulus was eating and whether his marks had improved. It was maliciously dirty, Remus knew, but it stood as a fact that that same owl had not come for Sirius in nearly three years. Remus had turned a blind eye to this sort of bullying for the sake of his friends, but even so, he felt particularly disgusted now.

He didn't see Sirius in some heavenly light. He saw him as he were, complete with all his flaws, but, disgusted as he were, _he thought he loved them, too_.

It wasn't until the next quidditch match that he'd thought of it again. Gryffindor was playing Slytherin and James was at his cockiest, gleaming triumphant in red and gold before ever making his way to the pitch and already explaining gameplay logistics to Lily unnecessarily, under the assumption that she must not already know. She didn't stand for it, no matter how good the entire school already assumed he was in bed, and left for the pitch without him.

As prefect, Remus had left before the others to help properly usher both players and spectators into the pitch, and it was impossible to really feel down when a game was about to go on. The roaring chatter and waving flags and battle chants, even the way the bleachers seemed to take new life when Mister Chaser Extraordinaire, himself, flew in on his broom; Remus particularly loved seeing Professor McGonagall come alive with Gryffindor spirit, you'd never guess just the week before she gave Sirius detention for belching a flawless _Go Gryffindor_ halfway through transfiguration.

He couldn't be angry with Sirius now. His three best mates loitered at the entrance to the pitch by his side as he worked, and it was so much like old times that he'd forgotten anything unpleasant ever happened between them. "Go on, Prongs," he said, "it's almost time, you're not supposed to be here." James was about to turn and head over to join his teammates when a few of the Slytherin players rushed in, among them Regulus, their Seeker. They were coming in almost late but still barely in time, and Sirius immediately nudged James before expertly holding out his foot and tripping his brother.

Regulus fell to the ground without any of the classical Black grace that Remus came to know in Sirius, and James clapped Sirius on the back with absolute contentment. Regulus got up and dusted himself off, calling out a halfhearted _fuck you_ as he rushed off to join his teammates. Peter chuckled in admiration of Sirius' quick reflexes to have tripped him on such short notice.

That sort of taunting was to be expected right before a match, it wasn't anything new; still, it was hardly the first time Sirius bullied his brother unprovoked.

Almost as by fate, Gryffindor lost the match. It was a particularly low blow because Regulus got them the win, catching the snitch just an arm's length ahead of Gryffindor's Seeker.

Slytherin burst into song, roaring through the pitch about what a pile of rubbish Gryffindor was, and it was particularly aggravating for James, who had scored a large number of goals on his own, only to see it all go to waste in the end. They were all in a rotten mood filing out, Remus still was away with the other prefects ushering students while Peter and Sirius waited for him and James.

"That was utter bollocks," Sirius said, "they'd hardly scored any goals…!"

"Utter bollocks," Peter replied, finding himself in perpetual agreement with anything James and Sirius said.

There were Slytherins walking past, still singing to Gryffindor's downfall, among them a small crowd in silver and green in a ring around Regulus, chanting and cheering as they went.

"_That little twat_," Sirius muttered, but he made no move to have at him then. It was only when James joined them a moment after the fact that Mulciber cried out what a massive bellend James was, and that his game was _utter shite_.

"Say that again, Mulciber…!" James scowled, stepping closer and gritting his teeth. His cape whipped around him, face still damp with exertion from after the game. Mulciber stepped close to James, about to say more when Regulus walked out from the crowd, "They're sore losers, the lot of them,_ mudbloods and half-breeds—"_

It wasn't James who hit him then; Remus didn't know what the commotion was about until he found the roaring crowd, closed in a ring around something flailing and struggling. James and Peter cheered on, and it wasn't until Remus had waded through toward them that he found Regulus entirely immobilized beneath Sirius, who had straddled his waist and was beating him the way only brothers beat each other up.

Both were bleeding, Sirius' hair swinging disheveled and Regulus' cape entirely ground in the dirt, and no one was helping, the Gryffindors in particular were egging him on. Rows broke out after matches, that was nothing new, and who didn't feel shite after losing a game, and this clearly was something between brothers— but Remus felt sick all the same. He thought he'd looked the other way enough. In a bout of stupidity, he reached in and gripped Sirius by the arm, muttering through clenched teeth that he'd gone completely mental, and Sirius, too far gone in the fight, shook him off without noticing.

James protested, shouting to Remus that Regulus had it coming for months, that it's nothing short of what he deserved; Remus stood uselessly in place for several moments before proceeding to push his way back out of the crowd. He went to get McGonagall.

All the bitterness and frustration he'd felt toward Sirius for the past several weeks came to manifestation at last; he hated him, he hated him for how he inadvertently made him suffer, he realized he wanted so much to see him hurt that he reveled darkly in this opportunity to find him at genuine fault.

He was a traitor, he knew, he felt guilty all the while, because James and Peter also saw, and they all knew what would come after that. The last time a row broke out, students were nearly suspended. Remus had heard plenty about what kind of person Regulus was, but seeing him bruised and beaten on the ground, just because he'd won Slytherin the match, entirely overpowered by Sirius with nobody trying to help—

_It was sick._ Remus wasn't the Slytherin prefect, but he was the one to take Regulus to see Madam Pomfrey after the fact, maybe in revenge, maybe out of spite, maybe deliberately to make Sirius suffer—

Truth be told, Sirius didn't walk away unscathed. They both had scratches, both were bleeding, and even if it were a match between brothers—likely far from the first or the last—Regulus was hardly walking straight by the time they'd made their way to the ward. Sirius had also been bruised, but not bad enough to need treatment.

Remus felt rotten all around. He was disgusted by how raw and grotesque the fight was from close up, embarrassed for both of them, and he felt horribly guilty for being the one to report Sirius. He thought he hated Sirius for how cruel he had been—not toward his brother, or Severus, or Lily, or anyone else he picked on—but how cruel he was toward him by not loving him back, without ever meaning to be cruel at all.

He sat at the bedside, gazing absently at the dust floating in the sunlight while he waited for Madam Pomfrey to finish fussing over Regulus so that she could fill out the forms he was to take back to Slughorn; he felt a traitor through and through.

There were students from Slytherin hurrying in, they'd not helped Regulus during the fight, but now that he was there, they'd come to see him and congratulate him for the win, and worry that he'd gotten hurt. Remus wished Pomfrey would leave the responsibility of taking the forms to one of them instead, because he didn't want to be there. But he was prefect, after all, so Pomfrey forbade the others from coming in and crowding the patient, and a number of them stood out at the door.

"Thanks," Regulus said spontaneously, and Remus was taken off guard, having spent the past several minutes staring out the window at the good weather they'd had for a change; he turned his gaze to him, hands resting idly in his lap and feeling tired and irritable and overall lousy. It was the first thing he'd said since Remus brought him in.

Remus regarded him curiously for several moments, unsure of what to say in return; he'd never thought much of Sirius' brother, apart from how he presumably was a_ massive prat_, and from the frightening things Sirius said he believed in so openly. He had a bruise on one eye that was slowly swelling up, and there was a dark red cut at his bottom lip, but, other than that, his likeness to Sirius was more striking than Remus had noticed before.

"You're welcome," he finally said, impatient to be out of there and not have to talk to anyone for a long time.

"Lupin, is it," Regulus asked, "you're dating my brother."

Remus stared back with intrigue; the way information traveled at their school, it wasn't surprising that everyone knew— still, though, hearing it directly from someone you didn't know felt unsettling. Remus didn't reply; he felt enough of a traitor already. After all he'd heard about Regulus for the past several years, he felt no desire to engage him in conversation.

He was surprised, then, by how timid he was. He didn't seem cocky or arrogant the way everyone from Gryffindor perceived everyone from Slytherin to be, and Remus reminded himself of all the things Sirius said that his brother believed in, even if he seemed gentle from close up. He didn't expect what came next;

"What's he like, then? Is he nice?"

It was a curious thing to ask; "What's he like? Your own brother?"

"He's a prat to me, clearly, but what's he really like?"

_He's really a prat to me, too_, Remus thought bitterly, even if Sirius had treated him with kindness—he'd made him suffer either way.

It was utter rubbish, trying to pass off that he really didn't know his brother; but it struck Remus that there was unmistakable longing in Regulus' voice. Even fresh at the aftermath of a row, he wasn't on about Sirius with the same sort of loathing Remus had come to know well on Sirius' part. It occurred to Remus that _Regulus looked up to his brother_.

He was entirely different. He had none of the quietly seductive, bold air that Sirius had, though he looked so remarkably similar; even with the bandages on, Remus could tell he was built in the same elegant form, graceful and slender, the same silky hair—

But Remus had the distinct impression that Regulus didn't resent his brother the way he did now, himself, even after Sirius had treated Regulus far worse; he was overcome with bitterness he didn't fully understand. without ever meaning to, he was suddenly telling Regulus all the things he didn't tell Sirius and James, about how wretched he felt, how profoundly aware he was of being _left out_, how even now that Sirius began to date him, the only person he'd ever really fancy was obviously James, and how, worst of all, despite that, despite it all, he had fallen hopelessly in love with Sirius, and it was something exhausting and devastating that had him completely tormented, and which he couldn't will away—

He was embarrassed with his outburst but also unexpectedly relieved, all the rotten things that happened that day had left him emotionally exhausted; and now that it all was irreversibly out in the air between them, he was uncomfortably reminded that Regulus was the one badly injured. Regulus regarded him quietly for a long time, overwhelmed after hearing far more intimate things than he'd ever expected; he slowly sat up in bed, accommodating to the bandages and discomfort of having to move. There was a bit of Sirius' gaze in his eyes, despite the bruise, and his hand was infinitely gentle when he tugged at Remus' arm. From somewhere down the hall, there emanated the distant tick of a clock; there came the discordant voices of Slytherin students still visible out by the door; Regulus pulled Remus toward him, long arms coming round his back with the tentative softness of a child, and even though they never knew each other, he held him carefully without ever saying a word.

_To be continued… _


	10. Chapter 10

Sirius sat outside McGonagall's office, arms crossed defiantly, glaring at nothing in particular on the wall across the way. There still was a dried cut on his cheek, and bruises along his arms and abdomen that you couldn't see with his robes on, now going a dark shade of purple two days after the fight. Inside the office nearby, McGonagall was meeting with his parents after what she'd said was _a_ _very serious offense_ on his part, and for which appropriate measures should be taken. It was rare to have your parents summoned to school, and nothing good could come of it considering Regulus already was _the good son_ and Sirius the bad. If he could do it over, he'd do it exactly the same way. He regretted nothing about beating his stupid brother up, if anything, he was sorry he had to stop partway because McGonagall showed up suddenly.

He didn't get to tell her what Regulus said about _half-breeds_, how that was the last straw that made Sirius finally lash out. There were indeed a few witches and wizards at Gryffindor house who were half human and half something else, but none of them had to hide it the way Remus did, because the _something else_ they half-were was not _wolf_. It was a good thing Remus wasn't there to hear his brother's malicious remark, Sirius knew how self-conscious Moony already was about his _furry little problem_.

Moony, he'd realized, has not had it easy of late. He thought back to the start of second year, when the four of them, still small and puffy-faced with the end of childhood, had sat together on the Hogwarts Express; it was an exasperatingly dull seven hours to Hogwarts, far too long for four twelve-year-old boys to sit still. They'd been loud and obnoxious the entire ride, pushing each other and throwing food out the window, and sticking gum on the undersides of seats, he remembered with a smile how he'd wrestled Remus on the cabin floor, getting both of them in trouble before the school year even began.

Remus had been a good sport about it; far from upset that they'd been reprimanded, he was glad to be included along. It occurred to Sirius now how odd such a thing was, considering Remus had always worked hard at his studies and tried to be good. He was vaguely aware he hadn't made Remus very happy of late.

Farther down along the bench there was another student awaiting his turn to be chewed out, but by the head of house at Ravenclaw. He had very light shoulder-length hair and his legs were crossed up on the bench, brightly-colored socks visible just at the end of his robes; he wasn't wearing shoes. He was staring oddly at a silver contraption held between his hands, humming softly to himself.

"I'm here for cheating on a test," he informed Sirius spontaneously without being prompted, and Sirius blinked in surprise; the blond boy didn't seem particularly bothered with the fact that he was in trouble. He continued playing with the item in his hands. "I didn't really cheat, though. They just think I did, because they didn't know I was approached by a wrackspurt, who engaged me in conversation during the test…they're invisible, you see…"

Sirius stared at him for several moments without saying a word; he'd never heard of a wrackspurt before. This guy was clearly mental.

He had no desire to talk to him. He hated that his parents were there just beyond the door, they didn't come alone, but along with half his extended family, as well, as though to make a point that Sirius indeed was the odd man out. He was certain Bellatrix would love to see him expelled; she didn't show up, though, but Narcissa did, together with her fiancé, Lucius Malfoy. It was an added humiliation that they had shown up. McGonagall had the good grace to ask the rest of them to wait outside and that only his parents come in, and Sirius glared living fire at Lucius as he watched him and his cousin walk off.

As he gazed sideward at the Ravenclaw boy, he noticed his socks were divided at the toes, and that each toe was a different color. "What happened to your shoes?" he asked, and, without looking up, the boy replied, "Nargles."

_Mental, clearly._

"Are you here because of the fight?"

Sirius' interest was piqued. "Beg your pardon?"

"The fight, everyone knows. It's too bad Gryffindor lost, really…"

Sirius regarded him quietly for several moments before finally saying, "Yeah, too bad."

He felt conflicted between wanting to be left alone and wondering who this guy was and just how much _everyone knew_ about his fight with Regulus.

"Well, I don't expect it should turn out badly for you, you lot always get away with mischief, don't you?" Sirius was only surprised momentarily; he was aware that, by that year, everyone knew who the school's most popular troublemakers were.

"Word gets around," he said bitterly.

"Oh, yes. But at least it's not about all that stuff from before, wouldn't you agree?"

Sirius was starting to get very annoyed with him.

"Yup," he said with impatience, arms crossed as he leaned back on the bench, staring up defiantly at the ceiling with one leg jittering irritably. He was starting to wish McGonagall would just call him in already.

"Cause, all those rumors—" the boy said vaguely, "I imagine they must really have hurt that bloke you're dating—"

The door to the Ravenclaw office came ajar, and the head of house stepped out.

"Xenophilius Lovegood?"

Sirius watched as the blond boy hopped down from the bench, the silver contraption swinging from one of his hands as he proceeded unbothered into the office, still in his socks.

XXX

His meeting with McGonagall didn't go well. He glared defiantly at her the entire time, minding his manners but making a silent point of being upset. He had good reason to get in a fight with Regulus, and _of course_ his parents would take his brother's side, he was willing to bet his mother was all but delighted to come in and see him in trouble so that she could say how _he's always like that_

There was no humor in McGonagall's face. She wasn't going to let him off the hook that time, and while she hardly reveled in indulging his parents with stories of all that their son had done wrong, she was visibly angry with this sort of violence. She told Sirius that she and the headmaster will discuss his possible suspension. She said he should know his mother had brought up possibly transferring him to Durmstrang.

His nonchalant attitude vanished at that, he began protesting loudly about how unfair it was and that it were only because his parents hated him, and how much they loved Regulus, and that he was a stupid little prat anyway, but McGonagall's hands came down hard on the desktop as she stood up.

"_Mister_ Black," she seethed, "have you any idea how badly your brother was injured? You might have suffered worse consequences if your friend, Mister Lupin, hadn't come to get me when he did."

He didn't hear anything she said after that. His face blanched completely; _Moony _told on him? All this happened because of _Moony_…?

That couldn't be right. There must be some misunderstanding. Something malicious as that was not in Remus' good nature to do, Sirius felt a sudden, desperate urge to speak with his friend, or with James or with Peter, to try to understand what it was really about; he spent the rest of the meeting trying to remember exactly all that had happened that day, Remus had tried to stop him during the fight…

He was suddenly reminded of what Xeno had said, _all those rumors must have really hurt that bloke you're dating_—was Moony mad at him because of that? But those rumors had come to rest not too long ago, so why was Remus upset now…? Either way, he'd never mentioned that they bothered him…

He was impatient to be out of McGonagall's office. As soon as he was back out in the hall, he put his bag down on the bench and proceeded to rummage inside for his mirror, the one he used to talk to James sometimes when they were stuck in separate rooms for detention. He walked briskly down the hall until he was far from the offices before holding it out again, and it took a few tries calling James' name before his face appeared in the mirror.

"What's up, Pads?" he asked, "You look shite."

"I feel shite," there came the reply, and Sirius proceeded to tell him everything that happened, about how his parents were called in and how he might be suspended because presumably Regulus was pretty badly injured, and how his parents want to have him transferred to Durmstrang; James' face paled, as well, as though he were in just as much shock, and he started going on about how _but that's bollocks, _and _they can't do that_, and _how can they do that_, and _he provoked you, mate, that wasn't your fault_—

He was particularly stunned when Sirius told him that it was Moony who told. James didn't believe it. He said that couldn't be right, it had to be some kind of misunderstanding, they had to ask Moony, he would never do something like that…

Sirius was in terrible form when he made his way up the stairwell to Gryffindor house, feeling exhausted and confused and betrayed, and also overcome with a suffocating sense of despair under the weight of all that was to happen. There was no way he'd let them send him off to Durmstrang. He was still underage so he had no say in it, but there was no way he'd let them do it, he'd run away before they could make him…

He made his way through the portrait hole deflated and cross, and the last thing, _the last thing_ he needed to see at that time was bloody Lily Evans, who pulled him aside in that irritating way that girls pulled people aside when there was something they _just_ had to know.

"Fuck off," he told her, "I'm _really _not in the mood—"

"No—_listen_—" she said, and her voice rang with something that sounded dangerously like concern. She quickly glanced around and began speaking in hushed tones. "There's something you should know—"

He really, really didn't need to know anything more at that time— but the way she stared at him made it evident it wasn't something he could avoid.

"_What_," he asked with a great deal of exasperation, a very bad feeling welling up in his gut.

"Now—don't get mad at me—" she whispered, her green eyes searching his face; she was very worried about something. "—it might not be true— but people are saying a number of students from Slytherin saw Remus kiss Regulus—"

Sirius went quiet for a long time. He couldn't quite process what she'd said.

She continued to stare at him with concern he could hardly endure, as though she were trying to see whether he understood.

"_What?_" he finally asked.

"It might not be true—but that's what people said, supposedly a number of students all saw—"

Sirius shook his head, "No, that's bollocks, that's utter rubbish," he said, pushing her away a little too forcibly, and he started making his way briskly toward the boys' dorm. He felt too stunned to really understand. It all felt like something out of a nightmare, everything he'd heard made him feel like he didn't know his best mate at all, it couldn't be Moony, none of it, _it couldn't be Moony_.

He thought back to all their nights in the Shack together as animals, how the four of them would curl to sleep at each others' side; he thought of their jokes during class, and their pranks, and how desperately he'd looked forward to starting school every year, to get away from home and see his three best friends again, had Moony secretly loathed him all along? Had he done something to hurt him so badly that he'd really betray him this way?

Again he was reminded of what Xeno Lovegood had said, _those rumors must really have hurt him_—did Remus decide to take revenge by cheating on him with his brother? But it _couldn't_ be. There had to be some mistake, that wasn't like Moony at all…

His heart raced as he strode down the hall to their dorm room, hoping he'd find Remus there and not knowing what he'd do if he didn't—he was desperate to talk to him, desperate to clear things up, he had to know what it was all about…

Remus didn't look up when he came in. He had his back to the door, reading at his desk, one hand moving quietly with a quill. Sirius stood in place with his hand on the doorknob, pulse still racing, face still pale.

"Is it true?" he deadpanned, his voice coming weak and hoarse, foreign even to him.

Remus didn't reply; Sirius could see that his body had frozen in place, as though he were afraid.

He walked lightheaded toward him and stood at the side of his desk. Remus looked up slowly.

"_Is it true? Did you kiss Regulus?_"

It was only a rumor. Remus never would do such a thing, they'd only hugged; but he didn't deny it. He'd heard the rumor, too. Seeing Sirius like this made him a little afraid, but his resentment gave him strength. He put his quill down and turned partway around in his chair, glaring at Sirius.

"So that bothers you, does it?" he asked, "What about you and Prongs?"

"_What about me and Prongs?_"

Sirius was practically shaking with bewilderment and anger and also with fear, because this sort of answer, this meant it all really were true—

"What about me and Prongs…!" he insisted again, "Prongs and I haven't done anything since—"

"You wanted to," Remus said, now hungrily relishing in the pleasure of finally telling him outright, "_I don't fancy people, Moony_, except _Prongs is special_, do you think I'm daft?"

Sirius stared with mute astonishment, slowly shaking his head; his own words had come back to hurt him with cruelty he'd never intended them to have.

"Merlin's beard, Moony…! That's not—"

"Yes it is, don't pretend that it isn't. It's always been _Padfoot and Prongs_, hasn't it? You only asked me out because he told you to."

"_Moony—_"

"And you know what else? You're a right arse, Padfoot, you had no reason to pick on Regulus like that, what's he done to you?"

"_What's he_—_Moony_—"

Now Remus' heart was racing fast, too, now that he'd told Sirius something that would surely make him mad; but he didn't hold back. All his bitterness and heartache came forth, and he knew this was dangerous, but he couldn't resist now that finally Sirius cared how he felt.

"You should see the shape you got him in," he said, "really, Padfoot, it was too much, _fuck's sake, he's a much nicer person than you_."

He went too far. Sirius stared mutely for a long time, feeling himself go lightheaded again. How did it come to this? Moony, _his_ Moony, how could he possibly think something like that?

"You don't mean that," he murmured, but Remus didn't reply.

They stared each other down in silence, listening to the vague shouts of students mucking about somewhere outside.

"So that's how it is," Sirius nodded, looking aside, and he brushed one hand through his hair. "That's how it is, you fancy bloody Regulus."

Remus stayed quiet for a long time. Somewhere inside, his heart was bleeding. He loved Sirius, but he completely hated him all the while.

"You suddenly care who I fancy?" he asked.

XXX

Remus' heart was still going fast when he'd been left alone in the room. He leaned back in his chair, staring absently out the window and feeling absolutely rotten. Sirius _deserved _it. It made Remus mad that he felt guilty despite that. Why was Sirius allowed to love James while he dated him, but then he got angry when he heard about him and Regulus? He was probably only upset because he hated his brother so much, and why he had hated him, Remus wasn't even sure. Regulus really _was_ a lot nicer. He thought back to all the times he'd seen Sirius bully him, and how he'd let it pass out of loyalty to his friends— but now that he thought of it, it was completely uncalled for. He was somehow embarrassed that he had the nerve to bring it up outright.

But despite his resentment, he felt profoundly pained for what he'd done. It was an encompassing, penetrating hurt that was longing and desperation all the while, he felt that he wanted badly to go to him and hold him and tell him he loved him and he was _so, so sorry_, and he hated himself for feeling this way. _It was what Sirius deserved._

He still wallowed in the strange satisfaction of his own agony when James came quietly in. There came a rustling as he pulled his bag down and then placed it by his bed, and then he walked slowly to Remus. It seemed they were all feeling shite.

James sat down slowly on Remus' bed and regarded him quietly for several moments; Remus didn't look back.

"It's not true, in case you're wondering," he said, "I didn't kiss Regulus."

James nodded slowly. "I didn't believe you would, mate," he said, "you don't kiss a lot of people."

Remus might have found it offensive if he wasn't so relieved that James believed him. He turned to look his way.

"Moony," James said, and Remus could tell by his voice there was something heavy on his mind, like he really wanted to be gentle but had a hard time convincing himself. "Look, I can understand that you probably meant well, as prefect and all—or that, because it was a pretty bad row…"

Remus slowly sat up; it dawned on him this wasn't about the kissing bit at all. The way James was suspiciously fighting for patience was somehow disturbing.

He frowned; "What are you…?"

James' long fingers played idly in his lap. "McGonagall says you were the one to report Sirius?"

Remus went quiet for a few moments; then he felt anger well in him again. He already felt a traitor for doing so, but he knew that he _shouldn't_— were they really trying to make a traitor out of him when a student was badly enough hurt to require treatment on the ward…?

"Yeah, I got McGonagall," he said with annoyance, "and it was a good thing, too, Pafoot would've killed him—"

James nodded again.

"Look, Moony—" he said, "you know you lot are my best mates, you and Pads and Wormtail—you know I don't like seeing you all this way—"

Remus said nothing. There was some sharp remark at the tip of his tongue about how he knew James was going to stick up for Sirius, and it would be no surprise, but he didn't speak.

"You probably meant well, is what I'm saying," James went on, "but you should know, Padfoot's parents came in today, they want to have him transferred to Durmstrang—"

"Good," Remus said straight away, "It's his fault, anyway, for being an arse." It hadn't really sunk in, and, either way, Remus didn't believe it. There's no way they'd transfer Padfoot with only one and a half years to go, and after he'd got himself in trouble so many times in the past and walked away unscathed—

Remus was a timid guy overall. He didn't get mad. He didn't tell you stuff. He gladly took second seat to his too-cool best mates, if they'd just let him in on their plans, and he kept his feelings inside. But this was just too unfair, James defending Sirius after Sirius loved James instead of him.

"Don't even think you'll make me feel bad for reporting him because of that," he said, and he kicked the leg of his desk, "I'm tired of covering up for him, he's treated me like dirt all along and…"

"He's treated you like dirt?"

Remus glared; "Of course _you_ would take his side…!" He turned fully to face him. "What, did you think I'd run out of here crying, ashamed of myself, _oh, no, what have I done, I've had the balls to report Padfoot and now because of me he's being transferred…!_ – Fuck you, it's not because of _me_. He got _himself_ transferred."

James sighed, hanging his head in defeat. "Moony, _why_ are you so angry at Padfoot?"

Remus stared back incredulously. "Why? _Why?_" He huffed with a dry bark of laughter and leaned back in his chair, "_Don't pretend you don't know why…!_"

James regarded him for a long time, mouth open partway, hands resting idly in his lap. "All right," he finally said, "Yeah, I get you."

_To be continued…_


	11. Chapter 11

James sat deflated at the Great Hall that evening, staring down at his charms book without reading a word. At his side, Peter had dozed off into his own crossed arms, the only one of his three best mates who wanted company. He wondered how they'd got themselves into this mess, but even best mates got into terrible arguments sometimes. James, himself, could never be completely selfless when it came to Sirius. You don't just give up someone you love, no matter how much it hurts someone else; he was only human, after all.

It all became frightfully complicated. There was Evans over at the Slytherin table, sat side by side with Snivellus Snape; James was too put out to even harass him properly. He twirled his wand with an air of disinterest, debating inwardly on a good spell to prank him, but his heart wasn't in it. James thought of how different his feelings were toward Lily versus toward Padfoot; _Padfoot__ was __really__ so__ much__ nicer_. Well—toward _him_, anyway. James was aware that Lily reserved special animosity toward him and Sirius, and that she was likely a very nice witch toward others, like, for example, Snivelly. He thought, in a way, that he liked her for not being nice; it was a sort of cruelty that made him feel special.

At his side, Peter was drooling serenely onto the sleeve of his robe, his blond hair scattered over the tabletop; James watched him for several seconds, still trying to decide on a good spell to prank Snape. It would be more fun if Padfoot was there, so they could prank him together… he sighed, casting a half-assed _expelliarmus_ on Severus' quill, and even Severus seemed unimpressed as he turned partway around, sliding his legs over the bench and then sinking to his knees to collect his quill from the floor. Lily turned around in her seat, shaking her head irritably, and James waved with a smile, but even that wasn't satisfying.

His attention was piqued when he noticed someone walking toward them, and he realized with an unpleasant lurch that it was Lucius Malfoy. What was _he_ doing there? Lucius was the Slytherin prefect during their first year at school, but he graduated two years after that. Sirius told them he'd dated Narcissa, and what it was like to endure him at Christmas and during the summer. Things got all the worse when they were engaged to be married and he'd practically joined the family, as he was every bit as insufferable as Naricssa, herself. _A __match__ made__ in__ heaven_, Padfoot would say with sarcasm, and then complain the two spent too much time at his house and not enough at Malfoy Manor.

James didn't quite remember what Lucius looked like then, but he did remember his near-white blond hair, which now trailed halfway down his back. Severus looked up as he'd approached, apparently not quite as surprised to find him there as James, and Lily appeared uneasy when he sat at Severus' side. James frowned, wishing he could hear what they were saying; at one point, both Severus and Lucius turned their heads toward him (James waved and smiled again) before Lucius shook his head, proceeding to pull out his wand.

He didn't try to spell James, though; he cast a cleaning spell on Severus' clothes, where ink had spilled earlier when he'd scrambled after his quill. Severus gazed down at his own robe, where now Lucius was straightening his collar and his tie, as though he still were a fifth-year prefect and Severus a first-year student. James watched this transpire with mild disinterest, head resting on the palm of his hand, until he noticed that now, despite her overly-obvious annoyance, Lily was watching the two Slytherins intently. He realized that, first off, Lucius was probably there as part of Sirius' extended family who'd come to meet with McGonagall, and, second, that Severus was probably entirely oblivious to the fact that being tended to this way was earning him more points with Evans than following her around all day ever did.

_Who __cares,__ he__'__s __only__ here __today_, James thought, _Padfoot__ and __I__ were__ at__ it__ much__ longer_. Still, it irritated him to see Lily intrigued by someone else this way, especially Snivellus, and considering all James had heard from Sirius about the Malfoys and blood purity, he wondered how Lily could even be watching at all. Did she not realize how much into all that bollocks Lucius was…? _He__'__s __not__ that__ fit__ anyway_, James thought, before he realized he was checking out another bloke. _This __is __definitely__ Padfoot__'__s __bad__ influence_.

He did feel a bout of newfound motivation to prank Snivellus, though; maybe it was time for an old favorite. Directing his wand just toward Severus' back, he called," _levicorpus__…__!_" But Lucius was too quick for him; he gripped Snape round the shoulder and pulled him down, so that the spell missed. "_Bollocks_," James muttered, but before he could do more, his own wand was knocked out of his hand by a loud "_expelliarmus__…__!_"

Peter had startled awake and was gazing around in confusion, a wet stream of drool still at his chin. James glared at Lucius as he pushed himself back from the bench in order to pick up his wand. Lily regarded him with combined contentment and surprise, actually smiling, while Severus slowly straightened himself, sheepish and embarrassed to have needed help.

What, James wondered, would he do if Sirius were transferred? Would he be stuck pranking Snivellus alone for the remainder of his time at school? He made a mental note of getting Snape again the following morning, when he was by himself, but realized it just wasn't as much fun. He sat back down on the bench with Peter, who now was slowly gazing at a watch he had on a chain inside his robe and murmuring something about _how __long __was __I__ out?_ "I dunno, twenty minutes?" James said in reply, still gazing at Evans, still thinking about Padfoot, and also about Moony.

Both of them wanted to be left alone that night, and while he believed that Sirius said so out of guilt toward Remus, James couldn't help but sympathize; after all Remus had said, Prongs sticking around to console and comfort Padfoot would only make things worse for Moony. And Moony would be right; James would have loved to stick around to console and comfort Sirius just then, he couldn't help himself. Truth be told, though, he would have liked to be there for Remus, too, but Remus would have none of it. So there James was, revising with Peter, staring at Lily and Snivellus and Lucius.

"Oi, Evans…!" he shouted, "Gryffindor table's right here…!"

Severus started to turn toward James, but Lily nudged him and shook her head. This was rubbish, ever since he and Sirius stopped, he no longer had her interest.

XXX

Sirius was suspended from school for two weeks. He was very blatantly unhappy about it, wishing to be anywhere else in the world than the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. He was shown little sympathy, though, because while a prank had its charm, violence did not—even if it were violence against a blood purity prat like his daft little brother.

"It's only suspension," Remus had said, not looking up from his schoolwork, but James could tell he was conflicted inside; Remus still didn't believe Sirius' mother would have him transferred, or so he told himself, anyway. Sirius was purely unhappy. While he didn't dare speak of it again, his heart pained at the thought of Moony kissing his brother, even more so when he thought of how Remus had said it was _just__ like __him __and__ Prongs_. Had Moony thought he'd kissed Prongs behind his back?

_You __wanted __to_, Remus had said, and Sirius denied it straight away, but somewhere in the back of his mind it did leave him wondering. Did he want to? All those years when James, for all intents and purposes, was decidedly straight, _did __he __want __to?_

And all those mornings when he'd wake up at the Shack, still a dog, curled on the mattress beside Remus—who was human and asleep and naked as the day he was born—

_did__ he __want__ to__…__?_

Yes, he'd wanted to transform back and—

and what…?

He was to be taken home the next morning, and he refused to pack his things, he glared angrily at the canopy of his bed as he lay down and played with an empty cigarette box. He'd have to make sure to smoke plenty of these while at home, in every which room in the house; really, though, the thought of going back had him very deflated. He imagined his parents visiting Regulus on the ward, listening to him cry about how traumatic an experience it all was for him, he'd probably hear all about it soon enough. _He__'__s__ a __much __nicer__ person __than__ you_, Remus had said, and the betrayal pierced through him like a knife; he wondered if Remus would say so if he'd heard what his brother had to say about half-bloods and werewolves.

Now on his last night at school for a while, he wished Moony would talk to him, but the anger was too fresh in Moony's mind; he seemed still shaken up from their argument before, and James had glanced at him sympathetically and asked them both to come out with him and Peter, but Remus declined, and then Sirius declined, as well. He hated that now even the most innocent things he could be doing with Prongs felt like betrayal against Moony. Whatever happened to the four of them being the greatest of friends…?

He pretended to be asleep when he heard the door open, it sounded like Peter and James had come back; there came the rustling of bags and footsteps in the room, the opening and shutting of drawers… they were speaking in hushed tones, thinking he's asleep, and soon he could tell even with eyes shut that the lights had gone out, he heard a faint _lumos_ as James produced a dim light with his wand as to see through the dark. Remus still hadn't returned.

He wondered if he was back on the ward, meeting with Regulus, the two of them bonded by mutual loathing for him, both being _so__ nice_ to each other. He imagined what the next full moon would be like—would Remus ask James not to bother coming along—or would it be the stag and the rat, just no dog?

It was dreadfully depressing. He'd always thought of his friends as his _real__ family_, but now it felt like this _real __family_ had all but fallen apart. There came a weight on his mattress, and he realized James had sat down at his side; he felt compelled in part to open his eyes and talk to him, and in part to wait and see if James kissed him— and part of him shouted it would be horribly wrong— and also, he wanted to ask, _where__'__s__ Moony_, and _can__ we__ please__ stop__ all__ this__ bollocks_, and _I __love__ all__ three __of__ you,__ why __does__ it__ have__ to __be__ this__ way__…__?_

"_Padfoot_," James whispered, "_You __asleep,__ mate?_"

He really wanted to reply that he wasn't, but he held his tongue. James waited a few moments more. "_It__'__s__ just__ two__ weeks, __mate_," he whispered, "_if__ they__ still__ decide__ to__ send__ you __to__ Durmstrang,__ there__'__s __no__ way __we__'__d __let__ them,__ we__'__ll__ do__ something,__ you__'__ll__ see__…_"

A few moments more passed, then he felt the weight on the mattress give way as James began to stand up; "_Where__'s __Moony?_" Sirius whispered, and James hesitated.

"Thought you was asleep," he said, voice going from a whisper to a low speaking tone, and Sirius merely replied, "No, I'm awake."

"Oh, well—I don't know," James lied, because he knew Remus indeed had gone to the ward, where Regulus was doing a little better, but still bandaged and not in proper form to go.

"You're a terrible liar," Sirius said, but he didn't pursue beyond that. His heart ached that he couldn't be with all three of his friends on his last night there for a while. He genuinely missed Remus, but anything he thought to say to him now would sound daft and trite.

He and James talked for a little bit longer before they finally both went to sleep, James reminding him to take his mirror along so they could talk, he'd told him pranking Snivellus by himself just wasn't the same… Peter, who'd listened in, called across the room to Sirius, murmuring a sleepy _stay __strong,__ Padfoot_, and _will__ be__ shite__ without__ you__ here,__ you__ know._

After that, Sirius stayed in his bed in the darkness, still in his day clothes, still wide awake even when his body grew tired; he waited and wondered how late it was, and why it was that Remus still hadn't returned. Was he really so profoundly upset? Was he not going to see him off at all, would he stay the night with Regulus, just to hurt him back? He'd thought how gentle and good-natured Remus had been, how he was a little ticklish when Sirius touched him, how when James had kissed Sirius, Remus had said, _I__ want__ to__ do__ that,__ too_—

It occurred to him how much something like that must have hurt. It occurred to him he should have realized when Remus asked James about him in potions that _he__'__d __already__ been __hurt__ at__ that__ time._When he thought in that light of the things he'd said to Remus at Hogsmeade, he shrank with a bout of regret; it was he who'd asked Remus if he'd fancied him, but even after Remus admitted humbly that he did, Sirius said he _didn__'__t__ fancy__ people_, himself.

Moony didn't tell you stuff, but Sirius hadn't figured, himself, that he'd been unintentionally cruel toward one of his best mates.

It wasn't for another hour or so that finally the door to their room came unlocked, and he listened to rustling and footsteps as Remus stepped in. He watched every move in the darkness, the way he pulled down his bag, as he began to fumble with the fastens of his robe, the way his nimble fingers quickly unraveled his tie—he was so distinctly _Moony_ that Sirius could almost forget they weren't just best mates as usual, and that he couldn't call out some joke or casual remark, _Oi,__ Moony,__ out__ past__ curfew__ without__ the__ rest __of__ us__…__?_

Would he really not see him for two weeks without so much as goodbye…?

Remus had disrobed completely and then dressed for sleep, and Sirius watched him climb into bed and then draw the drapes, and soon there was rustling of sheets, then silence after that.

He didn't know how long he'd lay there, listening to the distant sounds of night birds somewhere outside, and the old tower settling, the occasional rustling of someone stirring in bed; he sat up very slowly, quietly pulling his long legs over the mattress and then reaching down to the floor. There were the silhouettes of furniture in the room, outlined black in the darkness, he padded in his socks past Peter and James, wondering if they'd heard. Whether Remus was already asleep or if he were just pretending, Sirius didn't know; but his friend made no sound as he slowly climbed into his bed, and no sound as he slid beneath the covers, and when his arm reached slowly around him. Very tentatively, Sirius brought his face just to the nape of his neck, and he kissed him so lightly he might not have felt it at all; "_I__ miss__ you,__ Moony_," he whispered honestly, "_I__'__m __sorry,__ I __never__ meant..._"

Whether or not Moony was asleep, he didn't say anything in return. Sirius stayed at his side till morning, and when he awoke, the bed was unmade and Moony already was gone.

XXX

Perhaps the only nice thing about being back at number twelve, Grimmauld Place was Bellatrix's old stash of _Playwitch_es. She'd moved out when she married and her room was locked shut even after _alohomora_, but Sirius had a knife for exactly occasions like these. It was underage magic, trying to spell the door open, but so were the permanent sticking charms he'd used for all the stuff on the walls up in his room; they were going to transfer him, anyway.

Much easier to get at Bella's stuff now, without the shouting and chases and items set flying in his wake, _I__'__ll__ kill__ you_, she'd yell as she thundered after him, eyes wide and hands scrambling for her wand as he'd dart to the end of the second story corridor, then jump out the window and onto the incline that led to the roof—

He sighed now as he lay on his bed with a stack of her old magazines, his various bikini-clad muggle women smiling at him from the walls, and he wondered if he shouldn't just date women for a while; they were much less trouble, it seemed. Still, the wizard in the _Playwitch_ centerfold made a convincing argument to the contrary with his mostly-open quidditch robe and the quaffle that just barely obscured his member, but didn't quite.

He wondered what his best mates were doing. He wondered if James was left to prank old Snivelly all on his own; you'd think lying in bed and looking at porn instead of being in class was ideal, but he'd rather be at Hogwarts any day.

It wasn't until his fourth night back home that he was stirred awake very late by a voice he'd detested as far back as he could remember.

"Get out of my room, Kreacher," Sirius slurred, face buried in his pillow, hair scattered, not having shaved in some time.

"As Master wishes," the bitter voice croaked, full of loathing. "However, following Master Regulus' orders, I've brought a visitor here who wished to see you."

_To be continued…_


	12. Chapter 12

It took a few moments for the words to sink in. _A visitor…? On Regulus' orders…?_ Sirius slowly turned in bed, reaching sleepily for the sheets that were tangled partway around one of his legs. He was still much disoriented with sleep, not entirely sure if he were awake or dreaming or what the time was, and he stared for a long time before he fully understood.

"Wha…Moony…?" he whispered, and Remus turned to thank Kreacher, who was mercifully never informed he was both half-blood and a _half-breed_, and who left the room following Sirius' orders, murmuring vicious things about him on his way.

"I can't see anything," Remus whispered, and it was the first thing he'd said directly to Sirius in a long time. Sirius, whose eyes were accustomed to the darkness, could see him well enough; he was dressed in day clothes, but not his school uniform. Even as Sirius became more awake and aware, he still felt frightfully confused as to what was going on. All the while, though, his heart raced inside him; in the midst of his dreadful confinement, Remus was certainly a sight for sore eyes. Did it mean he wasn't angry? Did it mean he was still angry? What did it mean, that he came on Regulus' orders…?

Sirius scrambled out of bed, kicking uselessly at the tangle of sheets round his leg, and he grabbed hold of Remus' hand with both of his; Remus gasped. "Here, over here," Sirius whispered, and Moony still was feeling around in the darkness as he stumbled down onto Sirius' bed.

"Padfoot?" he asked, and he sounded reluctant, visibly uncomfortable to have snuck in and to be at the House of Black. "Bollocks, Moony, what are you doing here?" Sirius asked, both his hands still clutching one of his.

"I—" Remus whispered, suddenly shy, as though debating whether or not he was angry, "Regulus helped me come see you—I snuck out—"

"You snuck out? To see me? _Regulus helped…?_"

Just what was he playing at? Why would Regulus help Moony sneak out to see him…? Just with whom, Sirius wondered, did this mean that Remus' loyalties lay…? Sirius was almost afraid to ask, unsure to what extent his friend was still angry.

"I—" he started, "—are you hungry? You thirsty? You need the toilet?"

Remus shook his head, murmuring, _no_, and it was apparent he had a hard time saying something. Slowly, he became accustomed to the darkness, and was gazing at Sirius, then at his two hands around his palm.

"Merlin, it's so good to see you," Sirius whispered with a small laugh, and it came innocent and honest, before he could tell whether Remus really came in peace. "I've been cooped up here so long…" He thought for a few moments, then gripped his hand tighter and whispered, "What about school? What about class tomorrow?"

"Your brother—asked Kreacher to take me back tomorrow morning—that is—this morning—" Remus said timidly, because it already was past midnight.

Sirius' first impulse was disappointment that he'd have to go so soon; then again he wondered if this was some sort of favor that Regulus did for Remus. But if the two of them were on kissing terms, then why…?

He wanted to make some acrid remark about how nice it presumably was of Regulus to do this for Moony, but he didn't dare. He wanted to hug Remus and kiss him and tell him how grateful and touched he was that he came, and that he was sorry, and that he'd never intended to make him so angry—

—but he was afraid of what he might hear in response.

"I can't believe you're really here," he whispered, "blimey, that's wicked—" his hands traced Moony's cheeks and his jaw, then his neck down from there, and he felt so _human_, so vividly warm—

"Yeah, me neither," there came the reply, "apparition… it's bloody mad," he said, "thought I'd get sick—"

Sirius laughed knowingly, "Bollocks, apparating with Kreacher, that can't be fun, can it?"

Even if Kreacher had acted well, Sirius still didn't trust him; he was acting on Regulus orders, after all, and why Regulus would ask such a thing, he wasn't sure—but it likely had to do with the friendship he'd formed with Moony, and that certainly didn't sit right with Sirius.

_Is he mine?_ he wondered, _is he mine, is it okay if I—_

"James—lent me his cloak, I've got it here—" Remus said, patting the side of his jacket, and Sirius found he felt relieved to hear James had a hand in this, too. He wondered why Prongs hadn't also come along, and whether it was because Kreacher couldn't apparate with more than one person or because _Remus wanted to be alone with him._

He was afraid to bring up Prongs; he wondered what it meant that Remus had accepted James' help. All in all, he wished matters hadn't gotten so complicated that he'd even had to ask himself such a thing.

"I'm really glad you came," he whispered honestly, "I've felt utterly shite—"

He stopped himself, afraid to delve into the topic directly. Remus didn't reply, but he seemed more timid than angry; either way, he didn't brush Sirius off.

"I—never kissed your brother—" he murmured shyly, voice very soft, and Sirius froze in place. He searched Remus' face in the darkness, lips open partway.

"_What…?_" he finally asked.

"Yeah," Remus said, still gazing aside, "it was only a rumor. We only hugged…"

He trailed off. Sirius had been partway to relief when he caught the last word, but he was almost afraid to ask why they'd been hugging. He was also afraid to reprimand Remus for not telling him straight away.

"…oh," he finally said, very softly, "oh, is that so…"

In the dark, he could see Remus nod, still looking aside.

"You don't… you don't fa… you two aren't…" Sirius murmured, and Remus gazed up toward him, regarding him quietly for a long time.

"No," he finally shook his head, "No, it's not like that."

Sirius nodded slowly. He felt tremendously relieved, but he didn't bring it up. He wanted to say, _Prongs and I aren't like that, either_, but it was dangerous ground.

"You know, Moony," he finally said, "I only fancy you—"

The words came spontaneously before he'd really thought them out; he wasn't even sure how they came to him.

"I thought—" _that you don't fancy people_.

"Yeah," there came the reply, "I thought that, too."

Whether Remus had forgiven him, he didn't know. It could have been for any of a number of reasons that he'd kissed Sirius then, like that he'd missed him, or that he cared for him despite being angry, or that he just liked how it felt—

But Sirius realized how much he'd been wanting it now that it came, and he seized his mouth with curious hunger. "I really am sorry," he mouthed, "Really, I've felt crap ever since—"

They kissed very slowly, Sirius sliding Moony's jacket down and along his arms, and Moony let him do so as he pulled and tugged to get it off, as well.

"Blimey, how long has it been since you've shaved?" he whispered, fingers running along the stubble on Sirius' face, and Sirius snickered, "Too long, I reckon—" _wait till you find all the porn magazines—_

He led him unto his back, and Remus realized how much nicer it was now that he had Sirius all to himself, that he didn't have to share him; he wondered if it was all right to believe what he'd said, but he didn't want to dwell on it; if there still was some part of Sirius that fancied James, it wasn't apparent now. The burden of holding back his own feelings had become too heavy, and he wanted so much to believe that _Padfoot was really his_, despite how angry at him he had been.

Without Moony having to really explain, Regulus understood; he had loved his brother despite it all, just as well, and was just as aware of the injustice of it. You don't get to choose these things, do you, even as you tell yourself how unfair and degrading it is to love someone undeserving, you suffer the excruciating weight of holding back your own heart.

Was Sirius still undeserving? Remus didn't know. He was genuinely regretful, that much was apparent, and maybe he really did love Remus back— but no matter how he'd looked at it, Remus believed that part of Sirius would always be in love with James—and, regretful as Sirius might be, _you don't get to choose these things, do you_—

You can't tell someone, _stop being in love._

Sirius became aware that _Moony was unhappy_, and _something was wrong_, and he genuinely wished he understood, but he was afraid he'd make him angry again; "_Whatever I did, I'm sorry_," he murmured, and he thought that maybe if he were gentle enough, maybe if he were kind enough, he could make Moony understand, he found himself helpless against something unspoken between them that he didn't know how to undo—

And Remus didn't want to hear it, he didn't want to hear Sirius unable to deny that he loved someone else, and the fact that again there was nothing he could really blame Sirius for other than that pained him terribly.

"_Bollocks, Moony, what is it?_" Sirius whispered, and his arms came around him very tightly, and he swore he was sorry, that whatever terrible thing Remus thought of him, it wasn't true, and he wanted so much for them both to be happy, and _I do love you, Moony_, and _when have I started making you feel so bad?_

Despite everything, this also was true; there was no denying, Remus knew, that Sirius loved him. _Was he even aware of his feelings for James…?_ For a guy who _didn't fancy people_, Sirius certainly fancied more than his fair share.

"I wanted you," Remus whispered, very humble and quiet, "all to myself." It came very simple and honest, and Sirius felt curiously touched in a way he didn't fully understand; "I haven't taken very good care of you, have I, Moony—"

Remus didn't resist when he felt his clever hands gently tug and unravel his clothes; he gazed in the darkness around the expanse of the room, which was visibly luxuriant and elaborately furnished—visibly to Sirius' distaste. There were Gryffindor banners all over the walls, and posters of scantily-clad women who remained curiously still, and many pictures of motorcycles, and now that he'd become more accustomed to the dark Remus could tell there were clothes and magazines strewn all over the floor; he was reminded of Sirius' part of the room at Gryffindor Tower. And there, among all the posters and banners was a picture Remus recognized, taken the previous year, of the four of them standing together.

Sirius' hands already under his shirt, he moved closer as to have a better look, and he let out a chuckle of pleasant surprise. "This was taken last spring, wasn't it," he said softly, "I forgot about that…"

Lying on his back, Sirius turned around partway to the extent that he could, eyes rolling upward and lips momentarily parted. "Oh—that photo of us, yeah," he said, grinning with the same sort of pleasure—and, seeing the four of them smiling side by side, Remus was reminded it _wasn't_ just Padfoot and Prongs; it's always been Padfoot and Prongs and Wormtail and Moony.

Sirius snickered. "I look like a right tit there, don't I," he said, but he didn't seem to mind; he was back to kissing Remus, who kept looking up at the photo from over his embrace. When finally he had his attention again, Remus began cautiously to tug at Sirius' pajamas, and Sirius let him, he thought it was such a relief to be forgiven at least to some extent, and to be touched again.

Remus was still a little timid about disrobing him, and Sirius' large, elegant hands guided him along, "_You do have me all to yourself, you know_," he whispered, and, inwardly, he also was glad that he had Remus to himself, and that he didn't really kiss Regulus.

Remus raised his eyebrows when he recognized one of the girls in posters. "Lauren Hutton? You like muggle models?" Sirius gazed at the poster for several moments, then back at Moony as though impressed that he knew who she was. "Yeah, she's well fit. And American…"

"You like American muggle models?"

Sirius laughed as he rolled Moony unto his back. "I like English wizards better."

He kissed him before he could protest, and, frowning mid-kiss, Remus gazed down onto the floor, where a _Playwitch_ was strewn haphazardly; while it was facing the opposite way, he clearly could recognize the cover title.

"Mmph, I can see that—" he snickered incredulously, "I didn't know you had a _Playwitch_—"

"Playwitch_es_, plural," Sirius helpfully corrected, "they're technically my cousin's."

"Your cousin's? How'd you get them?"

Sirius laughed, "Been nicking her porno for years…"

"No kidding," Remus said, now halfway out of his own shirt, and he reached down to the floor to grab the magazine. "I wanna see—"

Sirius reached for the bedside lamp, squinting at the dim light after turning it on. He sat cross-legged beside Moony as they flipped through Bellatrix's May '72 issue of _Playwitch_, and, as Moony expected, it was all blokes.

"Not got something with girls?" Remus asked, and Sirius snickered, "Nicked one from a shop once, but my mum found it." He'd not been old enough to buy them before now.

"Doesn't seem fair, does it? If your cousin gets to have a whole stash—"

"She wasn't thirteen."

Remus laughed; this was just like old times again. As he flipped through the magazine, he thought Sirius was better looking than the wizards in there, even with his hair disheveled and his two-day-old stubble. He held the magazine up so the centerfold flipped open and snickered, "_Mister May_," he read in a mock-official tone.

"_Mister May_ is a few years too late," Sirius grinned as he took the magazine from Remus' hand and let it fall haphazardly to the floor, the centerfold fluttering disheveled.

He guided Remus down on his back again and kissed him, and Remus' arms came around him, sliding tentatively just under the elastic of his pajama bottoms. "You slag, are you not wearing pants?" he asked, and Sirius grinned toothily against him, "maybe I'm not." He guided Remus' hands to pull the elastic farther down.

Remus stopped momentarily. "Padfoot," he murmured, a little more serious now, "I was going to ask—that is—did you want—to continue from that time before—"

In the dim light of the lamp, Sirius could tell he was flushing. "You mean—what we were doing that time?"

Remus didn't reply; he was visibly struggling to say something.

"That is—" his voice went very quiet; "—that is, if you wanted to go farther than last time—"

"Farther than last time, you mean—"

Remus nodded shyly, not meeting his gaze.

Sirius stared at him with lips parted, and then, very quietly, as though it were dangerous to say it aloud, he whispered, "_you mean like doing it?_"

Now fully flushed, Remus nodded again. He was beginning to grow afraid of the rejection that might follow.

"_Really?_" Sirius said, and Remus looked up.

"Well, yeah…unless… you think it's a stupid idea, in which case…"

"No, I don't think—_really?_"

Now Sirius' face was alight like that of a puppy right before a walk.

It dawned on Remus that the answer to the question so thoroughly deliberated among the student body as to whether or not Sirius had _already done it_ was unexpectedly _no_.

He'd seemed so suave with his cigarette and his proficient, clever hands, and he knew so much about all that they'd done that Remus assumed without doubt that he and James had _done it_ the first opportunity they got. And yet, contrary to a certain popular rumor, Sirius apparently _hadn't_ lost it to James.

"Padfoot," he asked with genuine intrigue, "have you not—"

Sirius shook his head, entirely unashamed. "No, never," he said, "Do you still want to?"

_To be continued…_


	13. Chapter 13

"Reckon I could pose for one of these?"

Sirius asked, lying on his back with one of Bella's magazines up in his hands. Remus gazed from just over his chest, the both of them mostly out of their clothes. It really did feel nice to have him _all to himself_; the question caught him off guard.

"Are you having a laugh?" he asked, leaning up to have a look, and Sirius put the magazine down at his side. He regarded Remus for several moments before shaking his head. "No," he said, "I think it'd be a splendid way to irritate Mum."

There were so many things that seemed wrong with an idea like that. "Why…why would you want to irritate your mum, isn't she already…"

Sirius nodded, still entirely sincere. "They're having me transferred anyway."

"They won't really have you transferred, Pads."

"Oh, you don't know my parents."

"Sounds like I don't."

Sirius' fingers raked through Remus' hair with elegance that came second-nature to him. "You reckon it'll be a good parting gift?"

"Don't talk that way, Padfoot. Besides, don't you have to be seventeen?"

"Sixteen," he said, "Seventeen for magic."

"I…" Remus started, but he couldn't think of a good reason against it.

"Wonder if Bella still gets these, should be a nice surprise for her, too."

Remus smirked. "You're mental," he said, and Sirius laughed, "Maybe a little."

Sirius and James had already streaked in front of the entire student body; it wasn't like it would be his first time. Remus wanted to tell him it was a bad idea, but he honestly couldn't think _why_, and it made him uncomfortable. He thought back to the first time Sirius kissed James, _I should charge you for that_, Remus knew inwardly that Sirius was better-looking and better-endowed than most of the wizards in the issue they'd looked through.

"Let's not talk about that," he finally said as in compromise, one hand tugging at the elastic of Sirius' pajamas.

"All right," there came the reply, and Sirius' hand came on his as to help him pull them off.

Much as Remus hated to admit it, Sirius really had a body to show off. Regulus did, too, and while Remus hadn't deliberately looked at the time, it was apparent even through the bandages.

"Now you," Padfoot said with a smile, still on his back as he began to have at Moony's belt, his shirt and jacket already off and strewn somewhere down on the floor. This time, Remus didn't mind so much. It was more intimate this way, and it felt more like _Padfoot was his_. He smiled sheepishly from under his hair, his own long fingers joining Sirius' on his belt and his fly to get them off. Without the belt on, his trousers practically slid off his narrow hips; he was very thin, though Sirius inwardly thought it becoming.

"I wanna bite you right here," Sirius said, poking one finger at Remus' thigh, and he had that devious smile, the one that meant that he's _trouble_ but that made you love him for being that way, and Remus laughed, sitting down at his side as to slide his trousers off.

Remus wasn't aggressive like James— not in human form, anyway. And even if James had no experience with blokes when Sirius got to him, he knew how to take charge, he did things to Padfoot that made him hot even after the fact, when, gazing absently out the window, he'd still feel the places along his skin where he'd been held down and pursued.

It wasn't like that with Remus, but he didn't mind; it was very charming for Moony, he thought, to be _nice_. Hooking his thumbs in his briefs, Moony chuckled shyly, winking at him from beneath his fringe as he tugged them down, and Padfoot raised his eyebrows, deliberately looking, smiling, as well.

He pulled him in by the waist after Remus kicked his underwear off and kissed him, still grinning, _had he always wanted this_, Remus wondered, _always, _even if he'd never fancied blokes, as there always had been a twinkling magic about Sirius that made him too far-removed to really _have_, even when they were the closest of mates; there was something about him just untouchable enough that kept you desperate, that kept you in love even while you were friends, the way glam rock stars were untouchable—

—he was the sort of _cool_ you never could pervade, even when you knew that he was really just _human_—

Both Remus and Regulus thought so, even if neither had said so outright.

"It hurt, didn't it," Sirius said, "last time—"

"When you—"

"When I had my finger in you, yeah."

"It— well, I wasn't—"

"You wanna do it to me?"

Remus stopped partway to whatever he was going to say next, and he regarded Sirius quietly.

"It'll feel better for you," Sirius winked.

"Are you sure?"

"I've played with myself enough to know what to do," Padfoot said without shame, and Moony watched him with a combination of astonishment and intrigue, blushing for Sirius even if Sirius never blushed, himself.

"Right, where's my wand," Padfoot murmured, already tossing his perfect naked form partway over the mattress as he proceeded to search through his things on the floor, until he found it on the inside of his jacket, and Remus gripped him by the arm.

"Merlin, are you mad? You can't use that outside of school—"

Sirius chuckled, "Can't wait for that hearing, so I can tell them what I'd used it for—"

"Padfoot, really—"

"No, really, I've already used it since I've been here—now, watch—"

Remus didn't say more, but he was visibly uncomfortable. He watched as Sirius used the wand to produce a clear, viscous substance unto his palm, grinning at Moony as he said, "_For medicinal purposes_, so says the text— good for pranking, too…"

Remus chuckled at his nerve and shook his head, intrigued. The dim light of the bedside lamp illuminated Sirius' body in a soft haze as he turned to put his wand aside, and Remus watched, feeling he wanted to have at him—

"Right, so watch—" Sirius said, the fluid along his fingers glittering in the lamplight, his hair swinging, gazing down—

His slender legs moved gracefully apart, and Remus stopped him; "Wait," he murmured, already hard just from watching, and he seemed entirely innocent when he asked,

"I want to do what you did to me—"

Sirius smiled from behind his hair; he stopped partway to touching himself. "C'mere," he replied, and Remus moved closer, feeling the other boy's hand just at the nape of his neck as they kissed.

He didn't go easy on Remus. He didn't ask him if he was sure, or if he was all right with it, considering he'd not done it before; he didn't offer to do something for him first, either. He merely drew away and lay luxuriantly on his back, his aristocratic fingers running through Moony's hair with tender attention, "Go on, then," he prompted, as though it were something they did every day.

Moony hadn't done this before, but Padfoot looked good enough to eat— or maybe he were just aroused enough that it felt that way— but, as before, he had the sense that he was doing this _for his own satisfaction_ above all else—

Sirius' legs were long and smooth, they slid with knowing ease under Remus' large hands as he guided them farther apart, and Sirius watched him, he liked to see, his hand was in Moony's hair as he guided him forth. _Am I doing this right_, Remus wondered, never asking aloud, his eyes fluttered shut and he reached tentatively to lap at the small opening. Sirius cursed, his hand tight in his hair, muttering that _yes_ and _that's good_, and _keep doing that—_

And even though the hand in his hair pulled and it _hurt_, Remus found he liked doing it, and that _Sirius tasted very nice_; he lapped at him hungrily, his fingers going tight against his behind as he held him apart, breath coming hot through his nose; _he really wanted to—_

_he really wanted to fuck him—_

"You like doing that, don't you—" Sirius whispered, and it came with a note of fascination, as though he hadn't expected him to; Remus didn't reply, he couldn't, but he gazed upward at him, to the extent that he could. He slid his tongue in past the opening, having to force his way in, because it was very tight—and he became aware that Sirius was very warm inside; he allowed it in as far as it would go, until his lips were pressed wetly against him, and Sirius swore and whispered and told him he was beautiful—

"_Let me look at you_," he said, face flushed with arousal as he leaned forth, and he tilted his chin up toward him, the fluid glistening wet at Moony's lip; Sirius regarded him for several moments with something like innocent curiosity before he pulled him up to himself.

"Why do you look so _nice_ when you're dirty," he mouthed, slowly running the tip of one finger against Moony's lip, and, without moving the digit, he proceeded to kiss him. Remus' hands came tentatively against the other boy's arms and, blindly, still kissing, Sirius took one of his hands in his.

Remus felt his index finger go slick with the fluid from before. "_Don't worry_," Sirius murmured against his mouth, "it won't hurt me—"

He felt him slowly lower his hand to the wet perineum, and they both turned their gaze downward a bit, he watched as Padfoot guided the tip of his finger inside.

"You're so warm," Remus mouthed, and, momentarily holding his breath, Sirius whispered, "Yeah—"

He'd learned to do this to himself many years before, it took getting used to, and Remus was so much more careful, so much more gentle when he did it, _you won't hurt me_, Sirius told him again—

His hand came on Moony's wrist, slowly but firmly guiding him inside, "Do this," he whispered, demonstrating a _come here_ gesture with his free hand.

"Like this?" Remus asked, imitating the motion inside, and Sirius' lips came apart; he chuckled softly, "Yeah, like that—"

"I wanna try that—" Remus asked with all the innocence in the world, "Is that nice?"

Still part-gasping, Sirius laughed, "You wanna try that, do you," he kissed him again, "It hurt when I put my finger in you last time, didn't it? It takes practice—"

"I know—" there came the reply, Remus gently repeating the motion and watching the other boy's expression intently, "—but I wanna know what it's like—"

Sirius appeared amused to the extent that he could while so visibly affected. He regarded Moony for several moments before finally nodding. "Yeah, all right— we'll do it to you."

_To be continued…_


	14. Chapter 14

The chandelier suspended dark with candles snuffed out, the elaborate twisting decorations around it, giving way to the ceiling, then the place where it spanned to meet the wall, there still was silver where the banners and posters hadn't reached high enough; Remus gazed up in the dim light of the bedside lamp, his hand in Sirius' hair, eyes darting around the room that stood almost in contrast with his own room back at home. It was almost strange to think his close friend of so many years had grown up in a lavish place like this—

He and Sirius, wrestling on the cabin floor at the Hogwarts Express at age twelve; he and Sirius, falling asleep in the lounge on a mountain of books, two weeks before OWLs; in the quidditch bleachers, cheering for Prongs, shouting with disappointment when he'd been blocked—

Padfoot did it so _well_, what he did between his legs, Remus liked the feel of his hair on his thighs, the expiration of his breath, he was so proficiently _good_ you'd never guess he'd not _done it_ before. Remus wondered when it would be okay to ask Sirius to try it, it felt so nice with his tongue, but it had felt exactly as nice the time he'd done it before, and that time, as soon as he'd tried with his finger, it hurt—

It hadn't been easy. They both tried to be very patient, Padfoot tried as much as he could to be gentle, Moony tried to tolerate it as much as he could despite how uncomfortable it felt. He found himself frustrated with his own body, really, something that was supposed to feel nice had really just hurt and felt wrong more than anything else; that was normal, Padfoot said, it doesn't feel good the first time, it's an acquired taste, and he said they could stop, he didn't mind if Moony did it to him, instead—

But Remus insisted, because if it were an acquired taste, then he needed to get used to it, after all; so they kept trying, and Sirius kept trying to be gentle, and he didn't complain when his tongue began to hurt, and he didn't complain that his attention was entirely devoted to Moony for a full hour with nothing in return, and he didn't complain that, as much as he wanted to see Moony like it, the best he could do was have him tolerate what he did.

_Maybe it's because I'm straight_, Remus thought, _maybe straight blokes just never enjoy this_, but how completely straight could you be if you got hard for another bloke, and how completely straight could you be if you fell so hard in love with him—

It was unexpected then, when through the uncomfortable intrusion there finally came something else— it felt profoundly strange—

It wasn't like being touched from the outside, or like having someone's hand or their mouth on you; it was a vague but unmistakable, direct electric impulse from inside that he couldn't quite place; his fingers clawed hard at Sirius' shoulders and his mouth came agape, no words issuing forth. He stared at the ceiling, astonished, not having believed until then that it were real.

Padfoot looked up hopefully, two fingers still inside and feeling him go tight all around; "That it?" he asked, slowly moving up as to kiss him, still stroking him inside. Moony didn't respond, he merely looked back, lips still parted, eyes still batting with disbelief.

"I…" he finally managed, whispering just against Sirius' lips, "I…I've never…" _–I've never known there was something like that—_

Sirius chuckled as he kissed him again, pleased and relieved he'd finally managed to make him feel something nice from inside. A bloke could come this way, he told him, and Moony already knew, he'd heard about this, what bloke hadn't— he'd just never—he'd never really realized it was real until he'd felt it so profoundly, himself—

Sirius didn't make him come that way, not just that alone; even after an hour of tending to him, he took his member in his mouth again, everyone knows you're far more sensitive after climax, he was going to try it with him after that; and Remus would have liked to thank him for the attention, he would have liked to tell him how nice it felt and how much he liked when he did it with his mouth, but he found himself speechless after that, everything he did to him was nearly too much; his hands went tight in Sirius' hair, his long legs woven loosely around him, his eyes tightly shut and his back arching, he'd stopped caring long since how graceless he were, how obscene it all was, just where Padfoot was touching him and what it made him do—

He cursed and muttered when he came, pulling hard enough at Sirius' hair to hear his cry of pain muffled around him, and he collapsed exhausted and spent after the fact, heart still going, breath still coming fast; then he felt Padfoot's lips on his, he kissed him weakly, contentedly, tasting himself on him—

"I'm gonna try now," Sirius said, still kissing him, his fingers gently combing back his hair.

"Now?" Remus asked, his eyes slowly coming open, and Sirius asked, "That all right?"

Remus said it was.

He'd earned it, Sirius did, he'd given him so much attention for so long—

Padfoot slowly took his place between his legs, carefully prompting his thighs farther apart. He still was wet around the mouth, absently licking at his lips as he reached down toward Moony. The small opening was still slick from before, Remus gasped when he felt his fingers go in, he really was more sensitive now after climax and also he'd got a bit accustomed to how it felt from before. He watched Sirius as he slid the digits in him, slowly in and out a few times, before he'd looked up and asked, "Reckon we could try it?"

Moony was very curious to try. He'd been wondering what it would be like for a while now, it wasn't exactly the way he'd imagined himself _losing it_, but ever since Sirius, ever since that afternoon with him and James, he'd wondered how this would feel.

"Oi, could you get me my wand—" Sirius asked, and after searching for a few moments on the bed, Remus found it some distance away. He handed it to Sirius and watched him use more of the fluid on himself, his hands graceful and clever as they moved along his own member, Sirius visibly fighting from succumbing to his own ministrations; it was so _real_. They were really going to—

Propped by his elbows, Remus watched as he slid closer to him, close enough that he could feel his hips warm against his thighs, then there came the hot tip of his member, slick with fluid just outside his opening. It felt so big. Could he really bear to have that inside him, was that really possible—

"I'll go slow," Sirius said, his voice hoarse, half a whisper, and it occurred to Remus that he was impatient and nervous about doing this, too.

"All right," there came the reply, and the both of them watched, Padfoot carefully steadied himself, slowly pressing just the tip against him.

It was very big. It was more than with two fingers, and it didn't feel right; it sort of hurt.

"Stop, stop—" Remus whispered, and Sirius did. He'd only barely got the head in.

"All right, Moony?"

Remus lay on his back, staring up at the chandelier.

"I—how far in is it?" he asked, breathing in slowly in attempt to calm himself. Sirius didn't like seeing him that way, but he knew it wouldn't feel good the first time.

"Just the head," he said.

Moony was very hot inside, and distinctly tight. It felt strange, being in him, and not far enough in to really feel nice. But that was it—_this was sex._ He found himself wishing it was better for Moony, even if he told himself that it was something you had to get used to, there was no getting around that.

"All right," Remus said, "All right, try a little more—"

"Mate, you sure?"

"Yeah, it's all right."

This also took a while. It wasn't easy for either of them; Remus found himself irritated by how intrusive it felt, by how much it felt distinctly like something that _shouldn't be there_, he'd wondered what was wrong with him if this was supposed to be pleasurable to so many blokes; and even if everyone knew the first time wasn't supposed to feel good, there was nothing to have him believe that it would ever get better. He wondered how being so intimate with someone you loved could feel so decidedly _wrong_.

"I can stop," Sirius offered, and, frustrated, Remus shook his head; if they didn't get it straight then, then when would they? They _had_ to do this, he _had_ to get used to it.

But _why_…? _Why_ did he have to get used to doing something like this, he was a bloke, after all, and perfectly capable of _doing it_ from the giving end, he could go back to women and never have to deal with this again—

But he didn't want to do it with anyone else. And even if he had gone back to women, or even if he and Padfoot switched places, he still never would find out what something like this was like, he'd never know what it felt like to actually _like_ this—

—and it irritated him to think that it just wasn't something he was able to do.

They never got to a point that night where it felt good. Sirius had gone very gentle and slow, proceeding inward one centimeter at a time, but every little bit hurt, and he couldn't have enjoyed it even if he'd tried. He'd offered to Remus, _do it to me_, and _I'd played with myself this way for years_, but Moony refused. Then, finally, after much time had passed, Sirius finally pulled out, and he leaned in to kiss Remus and take him in his arms, and he whispered that it didn't matter, and that it was their first time, and it wasn't supposed to be easy.

Remus was a good sport about it. He smiled and brushed his hand against Sirius' face, saying he knew, that he didn't mind, that he wished he'd been able to take it better. That he really appreciated how nice Sirius was. Really, he was terribly frustrated with himself. He'd wanted so much for it to feel nice.

"We'll try it again," Sirius promised, he was as gentle with him as he could, "we'll keep trying, all right?"

"Yeah, all right," there came the reply, though, inwardly, Remus found himself wondering when the next time would be, and what would happen to Padfoot; he was certain they weren't really gonna transfer him, he'd be here for two weeks and then he'd be back at Gryffindor House, and they'd be together—

He'd thought of their fight and the tension between them of late, and he realized that coming to visit Sirius here had done them both a great deal of good; even though sex didn't really work out, here they were lying close in each other's arms, bare skin to bare skin, the both of them wanting so much to be happy together. He wanted so much to apologize that he wasn't able to do it, he felt that something was wrong with him and that he made it seem like he didn't want to _do it_, but that's not how it was; he'd really been very curious, he'd wanted to know what it was like, but he just _couldn't_ take it physically, as much as he'd tried.

_We'll keep trying_, Padfoot had promised, and Moony felt how much he loved him then, and how glad he was that he came to see him that night. It was only then that he felt the concern begin to well inside him, that the prospect of Sirius being sent away to another school had for the first time seemed real. _No way, we won't let them_, he thought,_ we'll have to do something, even Regulus wouldn't want him sent off—_

He didn't want to have to leave in the morning—in a few hours, really, because it already had become frightfully late. He didn't want to fall asleep, he knew that no sooner he'd close his eyes than he'd be stirred again into cognizance by Kreacher, and then he'd have to dress and leave again. Now that he felt Sirius truly loved him, he didn't want to be apart from him again.

"I wish you didn't have to be here," he whispered, "I wish you could just come back with me."

Sirius smiled; it occurred to him it sounded a lot like he'd been forgiven. "Trust me, mate," he replied, "I wish I could come back with you, too." He really hated being home.

Remus found himself afraid that by the time Sirius returned, he might forget all this again. That the intimacy they had that night was really a one-time thing and they'd go back to how it was before.

"You want me to visit again? If—it's possible…?" he asked.

He couldn't see very well in the dark, but he could tell by his voice then that Sirius was smiling. "Yeah, I'd like that," Padfoot said.

They both fought to stay awake after that, but both eventually dozed off, naked and intertwined together; they both wished they'd managed to fall for each other without having to endure so much rubbish on the way.

_To be continued…_


End file.
